Soul Alchemy
by Deepest-Blue2
Summary: He desperately needed her light... but what neither of them knew was... she desperately needed his darkness too.
1. The Dream

_ Notre Dame was on fire. _

_The flames that already consumed half of the city had arrived to the mighty feet of the cathedral, and were now licking them avidly. The blackened sky was glowing with the inferno beneath it. The smell of dense smoke made the hot air even more suffocating. _

_The screams that filled the night were a mixture of fear, pain and anger. The cries of the gypsies and the Parisian commoners trying to fight back the guards were intertwined with those of the soldiers themselves, shouting instructions at one another and clashing their swords. It was chaos. _

_But somehow, from above the multitude, it all sounded muted, like it came from underwater. There was this chilling silence as his eyes screened the open corridors and terraces, where no trace of them could be found. He had just lost sight of them for a second, but they seemed to have vanished. Unless… _

_He gazed upon the balustrade and looked down. There they were, hanging scarcely from a gargoyle. The look on fear of both their faces only made his victory juicier. He climbed onto a gargoyle as well and, unsheathing his deadly sword, he lifted it over his head with an evil grin, ready to end, once and for all, the cause of all his misery. _

_But before he could throw the final strike, the stone under his feet cracked deeply, making him lose his balance. He grabbed onto it with both hands, and then to his terror, he watched its eyes come to life in a satanic glow. The demonic gaze pierced his very soul for a second, before unhanging itself from the wall and precipitating into the fiery abyss below. _

The free fall shook his body into awakening with a violent scream.

His hands clenched at the sheets as if holding for dear life, his pale knuckles even whiter. His whole body was covered in a cold sweat, making his hair sticky into the pillow. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was, while looking around frantically into the darkness of his chambers.

There was an anxious, irregular sound that he initially failed to identify as his own desperate breathing.

He swiftly rose from the bed and walked to the window, as if wanting to make sure that the real world still stood on the other side of the glass. The faint orange shimmer on some points of the dark clouds spoke of fire, but nothing compared to the images he had just a moment ago so vividly dreamt. The streets were dark and silent, though there was an ominous feeling overall.

"What has just happened?" The mighty judge pondered, while his heart slowly regained his steady beat. He didn't usually remember his dreams, but when he did, they were most certainly not nearly as real and physical as tonight's visions. Maybe it was some sort of premonition… or even a warning? Perhaps God was showing him the consequences of his actions if he insisted on following this path. Though the vision had been much more hell-like… so could it be an evil power trying to scare him off from fulfilling his duties to the city?

He stepped away from the window, running his hand through his wet forehead and silver hair, while he let out a heavy sigh. The past few days had been confusing and tortuous, too hasty and consuming to have a moment to think about what it all meant, and if it was the right way to proceed. His own burning desires had taken over his usually cold calculating mind and they had gone rampant all over the city he had sworn to protect.

But, to his comfort, all of his efforts had paid out at last, and he had managed to find and capture Paris greatest plague; the gypsies.

And among them, her. The gypsy witch that had put this fiery spell on him, forcing him to go mad in search for the only thing that could quench his thirst.

Now all of them awaited in the dungeons for their last sunrise, when he would at last put an end to all the craziness, lighting the final fire on the execution pyre.

Starting with the witch.

That was his civil and holy duty. That was what it was required of him.

Wasn't it?

He poured himself a glass of water from the porcelain jar that rested on his nightstand, and felt the fresh water clear his throat and mind. He contemplated his reflection on the old, burnished mirror on the wall. He looked like a dying man. Like a mad man. His eyes were sunken in his skull, surrounded by deep purple circles, but nevertheless glowing feverishly. His skin looked yellowish, and he had probably lost some weight during the past week (which wasn't surprising as he had forgotten to eat or even sleep during his obsessive persecution), for his cheekbones were even more prominent than before, giving him the appearance of a skeleton.

This sent a chill down his spine, as if he was looking at the angel of Death itself.

Was that what the dream was trying to tell him? That he was becoming his own downfall? And quite literally, sending himself to the flames of hell?

He looked away from the mirror and into the darkness. His hands unconsciously rubbing against each other.

What was he to do?

"What do you want from me?" he whispered desperately to the massive cross that hanged over the dark fireplace.

He prided himself of being a man of virtue, of purity. A man of God. And that's what he claimed when he started the persecution of the gypsies, the pagans who had caused more trouble and chaos in the city than any other. But these past few weeks all had been blurred by unholy thoughts and cravings that twisted his mind and made him feel he was losing it.

Maybe he was making a mistake?

Then he remembered the part of the dream that felt the realest, and also the scariest. It was the look on Quasimodo's eyes while he swung his sword above them. Such fear, but also shock and betrayal.

He felt a sharp pain in the pit of his stomach. He had betrayed him, alright, when letting him believe he knew about the Court of Miracles in order to follow him there. But lying was once thing, and actually hurting him a very different one. He would never do that, even in his maddest state…. Would he?

"No", he denied firmly, shaking his head as if to shake off the sheer thought. The boy was like a son to him, since he had been found abandoned at the steps of Notre Dame, almost 20 years ago. True, they had had their differences lately, and the once compliant boy had turned into a rebellious young man… but he couldn't be blamed for that, for the judge knew very well that he too had been bewitched by that damn gypsy dancer. How could he expect him to resist what he himself had failed to fight off?

As the light of the sunrise started creeping out of the horizon, and the grey chamber became clearer, so did his mind.

This wasn't right. This madness could only lead to chaos and damnation for all involved. Something needed to be done, before it was too late and the fire of hell was unleashed on the city and themselves.

With this resolution, he readjusted his hair and grabbed for his clothes. He dressed quickly and leaving his chambers, he descended the stairs decidedly towards the dungeons.

He had to speak to her.

* * *

**A/N: This is my first attempt at fanfic writing, so any well intended reviews will be greatly appreciated! Please keep in mind English is not my first language so I'm more interested in story-based reviews than language corrections (which of course I'm working on as well!) Thanks! ;) **


	2. The Spark

It was cold. So cold all her skin was trembling with goosebumps. The dampness in the air condensed on the stone walls of the cell, making it impossible to lay against them without getting colder.

Not that Esmeralda was in a laying mood anyway. She walked the cell anxiously, like a caged tiger, her mind racing as wildly as her heart.

They had placed her alone in a cell. She didn't know if this was meant to be a display of consideration or a punishment. But knowing her people, her friends and family were stacked up on the other side of those walls and she wasn't able to reach them, comfort them, and also be comforted by them… was definitely torture.

Even so, the isolation wasn't the worst part. They were all gonna die in a few hours, probably in the most horrid of ways, and there was no amount of comforting that would make up for that.

No. The worst part of being alone is that she wasn't. All her thoughts were with her, screaming in her ears, and the dull silence left her with no choice but to listen to them.

This was all her fault.

She had revealed their secret location to her friends, which also happened to be Frollo's protegee and his captain of the guard. Of course she knew they wouldn't betray her… but it had been an unforgivable carelessness to trust the judge wouldn't find a way to use them on his behalf.

When she had seen Frollo's soldiers storm the Court of Miracles she had felt many things, but to her dismay... Surprise wasn't one of them. It was as if she had knew all along what would go down, but hadn't wanted to look at it.

The secret their people had kept safe for years now, she had given away. And now they were all gonna die.

"But that's not on you" another inner, kinder voice intervened. "Frollo has always despised gypsies and he has been after their secret lair for longer than you've been in the city. He manipulated Quasimodo. He's the one ordering the executions. Not you".

But she shook her head, running her hands through her thick hair as her eyes started burning up with tears. Yeah, the man was mad for sure. His hate was piled up inside him like a gunpowder barrel, waiting to explode. But she knew the exact moment that madness had caught fire, for she had set the spark.

In the blackness of her cell, suddenly she saw the sunlight and the colourful tents and costumes from the Topsy Turvy day. Her imagination recalled every sight, sound and smell from that dreadful morning.

She remembered climbing into the stage while Clopin and the others started their cheerful music, and dancing on with her tambourine. Her red dress and golden ornaments made her feel so sensual and powerful, like a flame able to consume whatever got in front of her. The faces below the stage were filled with awe, admiration and desire. The sky could have fell in that moment, and she knew they wouldn't have moved their eyes from her.

This boosted her confidence and smile, but at the same time she felt a notch of something

unpleasant in the deepest part of her heart, something she couldn't name. She discarded it immediately, looking around in her twirling until suddenly she saw him.

He was sitting in the shadow of his garnet tent, staring at her dance like every other. Like every other? No. For the look on his face was one of pure despise. His lips were tighten together in a fine line and his scowl was at once icy cold and burning. His eyes held such an intensity her mind went blank, as if the music had suddenly stopped and time had slowed down drastically.

The notch on her heart grew and jumped onto her stomach and lower belly. She couldn't identify the feeling at all, but it was terrifying and all the same magnetic. She felt a strong urge to run and hide from him, like a small animal would from a deadly predator. But at the same time, she felt this pull, this absurd insane pull towards the man. She needed to get closer to him. She needed to understand why… Why did he hate her so much? And why did she care?

Before she could come to a rational decision, her body was acting on its own. She propelled herself with a graceful jump into his domains, and without hesitation, climbed onto his knees. Her legs felt the softness of his velvet robes and her hands impulsively went over his head, trapping him into her silk purple scarf, pulling him nearer.

In a matter of seconds they had gone from being meters to inches away. His look was of utter shock and that gave her a feeling of control that ran through her entire body.

This man was probably the most powerful and feared man in all Paris. And for the right reasons. He was known to despise the commoners, and the gypsies above all, and he had no mercy whatsoever when applying the law. His heart, that if he had one, was probably harder and colder than the stones of Notre Dame itself. He always held himself to the tightest, superior position, looking above his nose from his imposing horse, appearing to be something other than human and flesh… something unalterable.

And yet, here he was, crumbling down under her weight, his face contorting and his mouth dumbly opened, gasping for air.

She looked straightly into his eyes for an eternal instant, and her heart stopped at the depths she found there. Staring back was a dark man, for sure, but not a simple one. His soul folded into a million secret places, and she knew then that no one had the slightest clue what the cruel, impassive appearance hid.

Something awoke within her upon this realization, like a sleeping dragon raising its head at the smell of human flesh. The strength of the feeling scared her to death, and she tried to regain control by teasing him, planting a swift mocking kiss on the tip of his crooked nose. When he opened his eyes, something different had awoken in them as well. Something she didn't wanna look at. So she stamped his chaperon down into his face, and before he could do anything about it, she was gone into the stage, with a final mocking bow, dancing back like nothing had happened.

But everything had happened. What had transpired in mere seconds at the eyes of the city, had deeply changed both the course of their lives and souls, and it would end up affecting everyone within the range of their encounter.

Therefore, it was all, _**indeed**_, her fault.

She finally curled up against the wall and started crying hopelessly.

That was when she heard the key moving in the lock of her cell wooden door.


	3. The Bargain

She quickly got back on her feet while the door opened with a creaking squeak.

Her eyes were momentarily blinded by the glow of the torch that stood on the wall right in front of her cell, but soon a tall silhouette got in the light's way and her eyes could adjust. She took a step back while cleaning her cheeks rapidly. She didn't want to show any weakness in front of that man.

He muttered something to the guard, which handed him another torch and then left, his footsteps reverberating in the humid stone walls.

He entered the cell and closed the door behind him. Turning towards her, he lifted the torch in her direction to get a better look. The gypsy stood as far away from him as the small room allowed, with a defiant stare in her face and clenched jaws. However he could see the redness in her eyes, and the swollen lids that gave away she had been crying. That caused a nasty pinch in his stomach, which he quickly discarded. Raising his nose in a prideful condescending gesture, he walked towards the other side of the cell, like a lion walking circles before its pray, never taking his eyes away from hers.

\- So... - he began, in a soft, smug voice. - It seems you're not pleased with your accommodations. One would think you'd feel at home in damp, dark tunnels.- he said, gesturing with his hand around the cell while he placed the torch in a metal ring by the wall.

Her nostrils flared up.

\- What do you want? - she bursted hastily.

His smile vanished instantly, and a darkness took over his expression giving him a rather dangerous look. She felt her knees tremble and her stomach twist, but she didn't move a muscle. He was going to take away her people, and even her life… but for God's sake, he would not take her dignity.

But in a second his victorious, smug smile was back, when he answered, placing his fingertips together.

\- I already have everything I could possibly want, gypsy.

A chill went down her spine, almost as if she could read his mind and the horrendous plans that were cooking inside of it. But she took a sharp breath, and answered calmly.

\- Then why are you here? Did you came to gloat? Well, congratulations, Your Honor! You won. - she said, faking a reverence. - Let's just hope there's still someone in the city who will celebrate with you. - she added venomously, with a casual movement of her hand.

\- I'm not concerned with popularity among the vulgar crowd. Never have been. I don't expect them to appreciate whatever efforts I put into saving their immortal souls from vice and sin, nor I need them to. Knowing the right thing is done is enough celebration to me.

She snorted, turning around in her heels and throwing her hands in the air, with a bitter laugh.

\- Is this what you call the right thing? Massacring a whole people just because they're different?

He lifted one eyebrow, as in wondering if she really thought it was that simple. He deemed unworthy trying to explain his motivations, so he remained silent. She grew restless again. She wanted to poke the man, to make him reveal his intentions.

\- Anyway – she added. - That's not what I was referring to. I know you don't care about the… vulgar crowd, is it? But what about Quasimodo? What will he think of your betrayal? Of your manipulations and your lies to use him as a mere pawn in your murderous game? Do you even care? Or am I reuniting with him at the pyre later today?

There. She had hit a tender spot. She saw his fists clenching and his lips thinning.

\- Quasimodo was safely escorted to his chambers at the cathedral and will remain there, unharmed. - he replied hissing, putting a special emphasis on the last word. - And I'm sure he will eventually understand the decisions I was forced to make. - he added, in a firmer tone.

\- Sure. - she scoffed. - And I'm sure Captain Phoebus will also understand that you were forced to drive an arrow through his heart in order to stop him from saving an innocent family, won't he?

The judge suddenly grinned, the fire from the torch making his white teeth glow in a blood-curling way.

Her heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. What had he done…?

\- I'm so glad you brought your beloved captain up, witch. I just had the most interesting conversation with him on my way here.

\- Conversation? Is that how you call what goes down on this dungeons? - she asked, within her gritted teeth. He ignored the accusation, and started walking towards her with very slow steps.

\- You see, he disobeyed my direct orders, and that is enough to send him to the gallows. But he is also a war hero, and has served the king honorably for many years… So I offered him a bargain. Seeing his life was of certain value, I gave him the chance of trading it for that of another prisoner… which I think we both know would've been you, given the spell you've placed upon the poor bastard. He could die in your place…

\- You sadistic monster… - she started with a growl, but he lifted a finger and stopped her mid-sentence.

\- I'm not done yet. - he said, coming closer. - He could die in your place… or he could save himself and go to exile, to leave all the king's territories and never come back.

She stared furiously at him, for putting Phoebus in that impossible position, for playing them all like a puppeteer, for delighting himself in the fact that he controlled their lives and deaths.

\- They're setting up a horse for him as we speak. - he announced very matter-of-factually, as if commenting on the weather.

Esmeralda felt like a bucket of iced water had been poured over her. Could it be true? Maybe it was all a game, a strategy to see her break. But the look on Frollo's face was so victorious that she could tell that, for him, that truth was juicier and more satisfying than any lie could possibly be.

Phoebus was gone. He had abandoned her, abandoned all of them to save his own skin.

Perhaps it was naive of her to think someone would, if it came to it, give away his own life for hers, or whoever's. But she had always thought that the sun god soldier would be there with her until the very end, and his act of self preservation felt a lot like a coward betrayal.

However, she tried to remind herself, this wasn't Phoebus fault. He wouldn't have had to make that decision unless the cruel man, standing before her, hadn't forced him to. So she might as well channel all of her rage and hurt towards him.

\- This is insane! - she cried out, pushing him away with a sudden strength, and retiring to the opposite corner of the cell. - You find amusement in toying with everyone around you? Well this little game of yours has gone way too far!

\- You're right. - he answered, to her very surprise, while regaining balance and accommodating his robes. He stared at her with an indecipherable look, that made her even more tense than his previous evil grin. - This has gone too far. That's why I'm willing to put an end to it, right here and now.

The hair of her skin rose. Was he about to murder her, in the darkness of that cell, in no company but his own despicable one? Would she never see another day, or take a final breath in the open air? She tried to reply something but her mouth was so dry, no sound could emerge from it.

Seeing she didn't react, he carefully readjusted his chaperon, and crossing his arms he looked at her and lifted his frown.

\- I'm here to offer you a bargain, too.

\- My life for someone else's? - she asked, while her mind quickly started flashing her family's faces before her, in an impossible attempt to determine who she should save.

\- No. The Captain's life was worth something for his past heroic deeds...

\- Oh, I see. - she interrupted. - But I'm a vulgar gypsy street dancer, so my life is worthless.

\- _Au contraire_, witch. It's worth much more.

She looked up into his eyes, so surprised that her mouth was left mildly open. But he had an impenetrable expression, so whatever reasons he had for affirming that, remained hidden in the depths of his twisted mind.

\- So, what do I get in exchange for my life?

\- Those of your people.- he answered simply.

The shock washed down her whole body for the second time like a bucket of water, only this time it didn't felt freezing but almost… warm. As if the sun was bathing her skin after a long, long cold night, she could feel her heart coming back to life. But it was too good to be true.

\- Are you serious? - she asked, almost certain this was another one of his mean tactics. - If I die, you'll let them live? All of them?

\- No. - he replied quickly, and her heart sunk again in her chest like it had been punched by an iron fist. But he uncrossed his arms and walked near her again, with his palms extended towards her as if he was trying to explain the obvious to a little child. - Your death is worthless to me. It's your life what I'm willing to negotiate with.

She took a step back, finding the stone wall behind her.

\- What do you mean? - she asked tentatively, with a different kind of fear crawling up her back.

\- I'll let all your people go unharmed, with a warning of course, to not disturb the city's peace any further… if you pledge your life to me, and stay here in the Palace of Justice, under my protection, as my… guest. - he chose the word carefully, after a meaningful pause.

She felt she was gonna be sick. Up until that point she had thought that dying burned alive at the execution pyre was the worst thing that she could have imagined for herself. And still, when she thought she could save her people with that, she felt strong enough to face it.

But that meant a few minutes of torture and indescribable pain, and then she'd be done with it.

He was talking about her whole life. Years ahead of confinement, giving up her freedom, and existing at his complete disposition. Who knows what he had in mind for her, what kind of physical, mental and emotional torture without anyone to stop him. Her nausea grew volumes, and she yearned for the fiery fate that moments before she had dreaded.

He was patiently waiting, or so it appeared on the outside.

Inside of him, a crazy swirl of emotions threatened to eat him alive. There was anger, confusion, hate, desire, and most of all… fear. Fear she would say no. Because, truth be told… he knew he wouldn't be able to execute her. There was something in her he needed, even if he wasn't able to figure out what. He only knew he needed more time, he needed to know, and when he knew he'd put an end to his inner torture. But in order to do that, he needed her alive and near. If she said no, she would expose his weakness to the entire crowd, and then everyone would know he wasn't able to follow through with his threats, and they would lose all respect for him, inviting chaos into the city.

So he had decided to give up his juicier prey so far, the entire gypsy crowd, finally behind his bars... trusting that her compassionate heart would not walk away from such a generous offer (unlike her beloved Captain).

And, before she even said the words, he could read in her eye's determination that he had been right.

\- So be it. - she said, defeated.


	4. The Rules

Frollo walked like he was floating. A few steps ahead of her, his whole body language screamed of victory and pride.

He was, indeed, proud of himself. Not only had he avoided the ominous feeling that the dream had left hanging over his head, but he had managed to, in the process, achieve what he desired most. And he got rid of the competition in the way. With Phoebus gone, and the gypsies under control, he could finally focus his attention on what he had wanted all along. His chest felt like it was about to burst with self satisfaction.

Esmeralda, on the other hand, was dragging her feet, as if each step forward her body became heavier with the burden she had imposed on herself. The guards behind her were insistingly tapping on her back to rush her, which only made her wanna slow down even more, just to spite them.

\- I can walk, you know. - she grunted, when one of them went ahead and tried to grab her arm, releasing herself violently.

She had expected to see some sunlight when they reached the ground floor, but the main hall looked pretty much the same as the dungeons they had left behind. The dark stone walls had no windows, and all the light came from torches. In the middle, a big, ornamented staircase lead to the top floor, where some narrow tall windows finally revealed there was an outside world behind those claustrophobic walls.

Some metal armors guarded the hallways, but besides that, there were no decorations, nothing to make the place the slightest bit homey. There was no way around it; she was a prisoner, about to spend her life in a prison.

They went up the stairs, all the while Frollo never turned around to see her, though he could hear the annoyed sounds coming from her gritted teeth.

Finally, they arrived at a heavy wooden door, where he stopped. Taking out a ring of keys from the folds of his robes, he placed one on the lock and opened the door, walking through it and stepping aside to let her come in. She did, slowly, not knowing what to expect. But the sight was, _she would never admit it_, pleasantly surprising. The chamber was not too big, but it was definitely cozier than the rest of the building. There was a small fireplace on the side, and it was lit. They must have used some kind of aromatic wood, for the smell of the fire was rich and sensual.

On the opposite side of the wall, a much wider window went from the floor almost to the ceiling. There was a heavy garnet curtain on both sides, to cover it during the night and stop the cold from coming in.

A small wooden table and chair were nearby, with a glass jar of water and a ceramic basin next to it. Also a simple candelabrum held a few lit candles, that created a gracious dance of light over the wall.

Last, there was a bed on the corner. It rested on a wooden platform, well above the ground, very different from the simple hay mattress she was used to sleeping on at the Court of Miracles. But… no way…

She rushed to the bedside, with her eyes open wide. Over the bed covers there was a purple blanket, embroidered with stars made of golden thread. A blanket she knew very well, for she had sleep on it since her adoptive mother had sewn it for her so many years ago.

She felt a burning knot on her thread, and turned her gaze to the judge, still standing by the door, carefully observing her every reaction. She took the blanket in her hand, shaking her head indicating her lack of understanding.

He cleared his throat and answered with a light tone, as if downplaying it:

\- I had my guards took it from the remnants of your nest.

She took a deep breath, finding it hard to believe that a man such as him would take that sort of details into consideration. But before she could even begin to feel a trace of gratitude, a sudden darker and much creepier thought popped into her mind.

\- Was this before or after you knew I would be staying?

His so far relaxed expression changed fast, and though he did his best to conceal it quickly, she could saw a glimpse of a guilty, caught-red-handed, childish look.

She let the blanket fall back into the bed with a grimace of disgust, and took a step back.

\- Great – she mumbled harshly. - God forbid you do something for other than yourself!

\- Careful, witch. - he warned, suddenly dropping his arms in an _I've-had-enough_ gesture. His previously calm appearance turned threatening again, as he frowned upon her and lifted a pointing finger in her direction. - The fact that you're here and no longer in a cell doesn't mean you can disrespect me. Don't forget I'm being merciful beyond your merits, and you wouldn't want me reconsidering our deal, would you?

Esmeralda knew he was bluffing, but still, calling it would make things worse. So she lifted her palms in a conciliatory gesture.

\- Alright then. So what exactly is expected of me, _Your Honor_? - she said, accentuating the emphasis in the last words to sting him. - You know, it is rude to invite someone into a game without explaining the rules.

\- The rules are simple. - he replied, regaining his superiority look and satisfied tone. - You will stay here, in this chamber I generously granted you, and will live by the Palace's schedule and protocol, which is one of respect and decency. You're allowed to go into the common areas, but not any of the private ones, without my permission. You can also visit the inner courtyard if it pleases you. But you won't set foot outside the Palace without my supervision. And if you try to flee… you'll show me I made a mistake by trusting the word of a gypsy, so our deal will be instantly broken, and the rest of your kind, captured and executed.

She swallowed hard. This time he wasn't bluffing at all. He couldn't care less about the gypsie's lives; all they were was a card in his deck, to play at his convenience.

\- I won't. - she said firmly, staring into his eyes. - You have my word.

\- Good. - he answered with a nod. - Then you can trust my word as well. - he added, gesturing towards the window.

She hesitated for a second, but then walked to it. Looking through the glass, she saw the empty cobblestone square. The floor was still damp from the night's rain, but the sky was clearing and the golden sunrise light made the wet stones shine. For a few seconds nothing happened, and then she heard the squeak of the big metal doors opening. She looked down at them, and her heart jumped in her chest. Clopin was the first to walk into the square, hurrying the others along, helping the children and elder descend the Palace's stairs. Their colorful figures flooded the grey scene, rejoicing in the fresh air and rising sun, like it was their first. Somehow, it was. They had assumed it would be their last, but now they had been granted a second chance.

Esmeralda's eyes flooded. They looked unharmed, though still afraid and looking back at the guards in the gates, as if expecting it all to be a cruel joke, a cat and mouse kind of game. They raced through the square, scattering fast to the narrow streets beyond. Clopin stood the last, to make sure no one was left behind, and then, with a mocking reverence towards the guards, ran off as well and disappeared into an alley. Their life wouldn't be easy now that their safe haven had been destroyed. But they were free. Thanks to her.

\- They'll have nothing to fear as long as you keep your end of the bargain. - Frollo's voice sounded right over her shoulder. He had silently walked towards her while she was distracted watching their release. She jumped and turned quickly, to find him closer than she expected.

His granite eyes were fixed upon hers. The light of dawn reflected on them, turning them into a silver gray like a lake's surface under the sun.

This time, his tone hadn't been menacing. It was kind of… reassuring? As if he wanted to at least give her that comfort, that certainty, making it clear that her sacrifice would not be in vain.

Her mind protested upon this realization, but her heart softened a tiny bit. He was a monster, but, like the day of the festival, she caught a glimpse of something else, something hidden and buried within his soul, but nevertheless alive.

\- Thank you. - she replied, for the first time in an honest, not double-edged tone.

This seemed to surprise him just as much as he had just surprised her. He didn't know how to take it, for up until then, every interaction had been a push and pull game. He searched her eyes for mockery or defiance but he found none. This suddenly made him nervous, and he felt his mouth dry and his hands getting warm, about to start sweating.

Finally, he decided it was a good moment to pause and assess the situation, so he simply nodded and walked away towards the door.

Before she could think or do anything else, he was gone, and the door was locked.

Her new life had begun.


	5. The Apology

After the events that followed Tupsy Turvy, that spiraling infernal week, and the posterior negotiation and releasing of the gypsies… When he had finally gotten back to his personal chamber, Claude Frollo had slept for nearly 48 hours straight. The exhaustion and built up tension in his body had brought him into an almost comatose dreamless state, and when he had eventually awoken, for a second he doubted if it had all been a nightmare.

But as he got up and regained some clarity of mind, he remembered every crucial detail of what had transpired. Including Esmeralda agreeing to stay at the Palace, just down the hallway from him at that very moment. It was all real, he realized. The best… but also the worst of it.

He had set fire to the city. To innocent people's houses. And he would have to take responsibility for that, first and foremost, if he wanted to have peace of mind to face what would come next.

So the next couple of days he had went back to those places and offered the families economic compensations for any harm done, in an attempt to save his reputation and preserve their respect for him and his ruling. He briefly explained to them that it had been a necessary mean to an end, but now it was all solved and they could resume their lives with that monetary assistance. He'd never knew if their gratitude was honest or only fear-based, but the point was, everyone was back at their proper position.

He could see people scattering terrified as soon as he showed up, but he assumed they'd grow out of it eventually. Better be feared than disrespected.

He also spoke with the archdeacon of Notre Dame, who apparently had sent word of his mad deeds to his superiors, in an attempt to get someone to step in and put some order in the matter. He reassured him that he repented deeply, and understood the error in his ways. He attributed the madness to an evil spell placed upon his pious mind, and affirmed that God had finally took pity on his soul and freed him of the dark influence, allowing him to release the gypsies and make amends with the city. He never once mentioned the gypsy girl, nor did the priest ask about her, luckily. The archdeacon was a kind but simple man, and he fell easily for the judge's explanations, finding relief in them and assuring Frollo he would promptly write back to his superiors and inform them of the happy unfolding of events.

That left the judge with only one matter left to address. The one he had postponed to the end, for he dreaded it more than anything else. Quasimodo.

He had bought some fresh fruit, which he knew the boy loved, and only occasionally had, as a special treat. But as he climbed the stairs to the bell tower, he felt stupid when realizing a bunch of grapes weren't nearly enough to make up for what he had done.

When he arrived at Quasimodo's quarters, he found him laying on the bed, facing the wall. He cleared his throat, to make his presence known, but the young man didn't react.

"This will be a tough one", Frollo thought, and inhaling deeply, he laid the food basket on the nearest surface, and grabbing a chair, he sat next to the bed.

\- You have a right to be mad. - he started. He knew downplaying the situation like he had done with the citizens, or faking a religious contrition, wouldn't work on the boy. His only chance was to somehow convince him that his motivations had been pure. - I know I betrayed your trust. But I don't think you understand the seriousness of the situation we were in.

Quasimodo snorted, without looking at him. "Well, at least he reacted".

\- The gypsies had gone out of control. You saw what happened at Tupsy Turvy. They caused a riot, their pagan traditions, their uncontrolled drinking, their depraved rejoicing on deformity and vulgarity… They infested the citizens with their sinful behavior and made them think they could do as they pleased, unleashing their lower instincts free.- he declared with a repulsed tone. And then, placing a hand on the laying man, he continued with a much softer voice. - Look where that got you. How they feasted on your helplessness. I couldn't let them get away with...

Suddenly, Quasimodo got up in a jump, almost startling the judge off his chair.

\- I wouldn't have been helpless if you had stop them! - he accused with a raging voice.

Frollo lifted his palms, in a surrender gesture.

\- I was trying to show you how the outside world works. I had to, or else you would have tried to mingle with the commoners again, without my supervision, and God knows what they would've done to you then. Believe me – he assured, getting up and walking towards him – it hurt me more than you.

But Quasimodo shook his head, and he walked to the main room, leaving him behind. Frollo followed him carefully.

\- You say the gypsies caused the cruelty… but it was Esmeralda, a gypsy, the only one who did anything to stop it. To help me. So maybe you are wrong? - he asked, turning his head towards the judge with a dissapointed look.

Frollo pondered his options. He didn't want to take back his words, for he actually believed gypsies were an unholy plague for any city they stumbled upon. And he definitely didn't want Quasimodo to get the impression that it was safe to go outside again.

Gypsies or not, the world was not a safe place for the misshapen boy. He didn't remember this, but when he was very young, Frollo had tried to take him to school, in an attempt to give him a normal life and opportunity to learn how to read and write. But as soon as they'd shown up at the school entrance, all the kids had started pointing at him, and laughing hysterically like donkeys, making impressions of him with silly faces. Even the adults had started whispering among themselves and chuckling without any decency.

Quasimodo was too young to fully understand what was happening, so before he could, Frollo just grabbed his hand and pulled him away, without stopping until everyone was left behind. He had then resolved to teach the boy himself, and to keep him safe from any cruel, mocking eyes, even if that meant he'd be his only friend in the whole city, and later the object of his adolescent rebellion.

But he had to yield a little in order to win some terrain.

\- Maybe I was being too drastic. - he finally admitted, watching gladly how Quasimodo's expression softened. That encouraged him to keep going. - That's why I decided to give them a second chance. I figured a night at the dungeons would make them reconsider their sinful ways and perhaps gain a little respect for authority. I'm sure you've heard I let them go with a warning, after that.

\- Yes, I saw it. - Quasimodo replied, pointing his head towards the balustrade outside. - But what about Esmeralda? I haven't seen her around.

Frollo swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to buy some time. He knew of the boy's feelings towards the gypsy dancer, so he was stepping on thin ice here.

\- Well, - he finally said- she has chosen to stay at the Palace of Justice as a guarantee that their people can be trusted. A safety clause, if you will.

\- She chose that? On her own free will? - Quasimodo asked, suspicious.

\- Indeed. - Frollo replied, with a steady expression. _Well, she had, hadn't she?_ \- You mustn't worry about her – he continued, trying to settle the matter. - She's safe and sound.

Quasimodo evaluated his master's expression, and eventually he must had found it convincing, for he sighed heavily and drop his shoulders, as if an enormous burden had been lifted from his back.

This was the moment Frollo chose to come near him again, and placing a hand softly on his forearm, he asked:

\- So… will you forgive me, my dear boy? For needing your involuntary help trying to work out the higher good?

Quasimodo lifted an eyebrow at that convenient choice of words, but finally he patted his master's hand with his own, and answered:

\- Of course I forgive you. You're my only family. My protector.

\- Well then – Frollo said gladly, settling the matter. He took the food basket from Quasimodo's room at brought it to the main table, where the cathedral miniature and people's figures stood. He looked around the surface, and with a wounded tone he suddenly asked:

\- Did you get rid of my figure? Or maybe destroyed it in your anger?

\- What? No! - Quasimodo quickly replied, checking the table himself before suddenly remembering- Oh, Djali ate it, I'm afraid…

\- Who again?

\- Djali… Esmeralda's pet goat.

Quasimodo looked amused at Frollo's puzzled expression, and with a chuckle, he lifted the basket cover and exclaimed with a smile:

\- You brought grapes!


	6. Breakfast

The time had come.

Claude Frollo had been busy making arrangements to fix what he had destroyed, and talking to the people affected to spare his reputation.

But once Quasimodo had forgiven him, there was no longer any excuse to postpone the inevitable. So next morning, he woke up with his mind made up. He had to face her.

They hadn't seen each other since the gypsies were released under her window. He knew she had been resting in her chambers without going out for a couple of days, during which the meals were brought to her by her assigned maid. He had also commanded that a seamstress visited her and took measurements to make her proper clothes, as she only had those she was wearing on the night they were captured. On the fourth day, she had wandered around the main hallways of the Palace, as the guards promptly reported. He had make sure not to cross paths with her until everything else was settled. He told himself this was for clarity of mind… but truth be told, he was terrified of the encounter.

At least during the persecution he had a target, a purpose in mind, as crazy and consuming as that purpose was. But now he had found her, and made sure she would stay under his watch… _What was next? _

When he was after her, all he could think of was seeing her again, having her close to him again, as she had been during the festival or later at the cathedral. Her eyes, her warmth, her hair and its perfume… kept clouding his senses and mind.

But now she was just a few chambers away, all of that fell short in comparison to the paralyzing fear he felt. One thing was to fantasize about something, or someone, but having them within your hands reach… that was very different, and confusing.

It would be easier if this was just a physical desire. Though he had never felt that kind of mundane lust about anyone, he'd seen enough to guess it worked in a pretty simple, instinctual way. He could just… well… get to it and be done with it.

But there were two problems with that. First and foremost, he knew she didn't want it.

But also… he wasn't sure he wanted it either.

For as strong and burning as that desire was… There was an even stronger, deeper force, like a magnetic pull that dragged him towards her, that he couldn't understand at all. Is as if his soul knew something he didn't. As if there was something in her he never knew he had always needed. And this went way beyond his body, or even his heart. It was something that dug deep into his very essence, way past his identity into his core, the most remote corners of his soul.

And it terrified him, for he had never dared to go that deep within himself. He was all about his character, his identity, holding himself up to his own values and expectations, and keeping his reputation towards everyone else. And he dreaded what he might found down there.

But he knew, the closer he got to Esmeralda, the stronger that pull grew, and he also knew, deep in his bones, that eventually it would overpower him.

A knock on the door distracted him.

Magdalene, the housekeeper, poked her head through a slit.

\- Will you be having breakfast on the dining room today, Sir? Or should I fetch you some refreshments?

\- Yes, Magda, thank you. - he answered, formally. - Please make sure our guest joins me there.

\- Of course, Sir.

She left without a noise.

Frollo inhaled deeply, and turning to the mirror, he readjusted his dark silver hair. At least he did no longer look like a dying man, he thought to himself. The rest and peace of mind had done him a favor with that. Though his eyes still looked strangely gleaming, as if the feverish glow hadn't left them.

He looked away, and left the room.

* * *

\- I've been sent to escort you to the dining room, miss. - the housekeeper said nervously when Esmeralda asked her about her usual breakfast.

\- What? - Esmeralda replied, with a sudden twist in her stomach. - With… him? - she inquired with a dry mouth.

She knew this moment would come, eventually. She had been lucky enough to have a few days to herself, and though she saw his presence in every wall, torch and lock, at least she hadn't had to put up with the man himself.

For a moment she had tried to convince herself that maybe he despised her so much that he was happy just to have her under control, without the need of further interaction. But she knew that was just a naive pretense. If all he wanted was control, he would have burned her on the pyre. He wanted something else from her. But what?

He hadn't seemed too eager to actually being with her for a man who had went on a rampant pyromaniac search for her just a week ago. Perhaps he had changed his mind? Perhaps he was only interested in the chase and catch game?

It made her nervous not being able to figure him out. She believed she could deal with almost everything as long as she prepared herself to, but the uncertainty was killing her.

\- Please, miss… - the maid insisted, visibly restless.

Esmeralda understood she was worried about the consequences if she didn't achieve to fulfill his orders.

\- Yes. Sorry. Of course. - she muttered with a weak smile, and she followed the old woman down the stairs.

* * *

When she entered the dining room Frollo was already sat at the table, waiting. He stood up in a well-mannered way when she approached her chair, and only sat back after she had as well.

The table was filled with delicacies, and the sight and smell of it all made her stomach growl in hunger. She tried to cover the sound with her hand, unsuccessfully. Though she didn't look at him, she could see from the corner of her eye that he was hiding a smug smile.

\- Enjoy yourself – he invited, opening his hand. - I must assume it's not everyday you get the chance to have a proper breakfast. I find it hard to imagine this kind of nourishment at the catacombs.

\- Oh, definitely not, your honor. - she answered in a fake impressed tone. - We didn't have fresh baked pies or roasted apples there… we had to settle for joy and good company. - she finished, with an ironic smile, that made his disappear instantly.

\- You ungrateful witch – he snapped, dropping the cup on the table with a clinking noise.

She shot him a piercing gaze that he held firmly. None of them said anything further, and after a few seconds, the tension had built up to the roof. But neither one was willing to be defeated by looking away. The whole power dynamic of the situation was, quite literally, on the table, and they'd both rather drop dead than giving it away.

Luckily for them, a servant walked in bearing a trail with a steaming teapot, and broke the challenge by offering them a refill.

After that, they kept eating in complete silence, without ever looking at each other. Esmeralda tried to rush so she could be finished soon, but to her despair, she saw Frollo eat slowly, as in luxuriating himself in every bite. Though she heavily suspected he was actually taking delight in her restlessness, for she wouldn't be dismissed from the dining room until both had finished.

When he finally placed the cutlery over his empty plate, he took the napkin and softly cleaned his lips with its tip.

Esmeralda watched him do that with exasperated impatience, when suddenly a memory popped into her mind.

_It had happened the night of the Tupsy Turvy. The gypsies had kept the party going on the Court of Miracles, playing music, and dancing and feasting on the food they had brought back from the city._

_She had arrived late, after Quasimodo had helped her escape the cathedral in a terrifying climb down its walls._

_When she got there everyone was happy and relieved to see her, calling her name and grabbing her arm to invite her into the dancing. But she was fixated on finding Clopin. She eventually spotted him, standing up over a table, and drinking a huge horn full of beer at one sitting, while other men cheered and teased him loudly._

_She walked straight to him and arrived to the edge of the table, just as he dropped the horn, and grabbing his stomach with both hands, let out a huge burp. The men laughed and clapped, as he bowed humbly. When he raised his head and saw her, he squeaked in delight:_

_\- Esmeralda! Where have you been? We lost track of you after the festival!_

_\- Yeah well – she angrily answered, pulling him down to the floor, making him almost lose his balance. - Frollo cornered me into the cathedral and I had to wait there until Quasimodo helped me out, thanks for asking!_

_\- Hey, hey! I knew Frollo's soldiers didn't stand a chance against you, little sister! - he said cheerfully, tapping her shoulder. - At least you got to spend the evening with the newly crowned King! - he added, with a wink and a poke to her ribs. But her scorching eyes let him knew she wasn't in the mood for jokes. - What is it?_

_\- That's what I wanted to ask you, Clopin! What the hell was that?_

_\- What? - he asked, puzzled, with his gaze still blurry from the alcohol._

_\- Quasimodo! How could you let it get that far?_

_\- That wasn't me! - he replied defensively. - It was the people that took him after we crowned him!_

_\- But you didn't do anything about it! You know they listen to you!_

_\- Come on, now. The boy wasn't hurt, was he? It was just some tomatoes and vegetables, not like they were whipping him or anything…_

_Esmeralda's frown deepened._

_\- You're an idiot. - she spat, and turned around on her feet to leave._

_\- Hey, wait! - he said, but when she looked back at him, another man came out of nowhere holding an even bigger horn in his hand, and said:_

_\- I bet you can't finish this off without throwing up!_

_\- Is that a dare? - Clopin asked, pretending to be offended. And just like that, he took the horn and jumped onto the table again, completely forgetting about her, with beer foam dripping grossly through his goatee._

_She had felt so disappointed, so out of place there, among those drunken people who couldn't care less about the painful events that had transpired during the day. Maybe she was too sensitive, she thought to herself, and patting Djali's head, she went off to bed._

Frollo cleared his throat, and brought her back to the present, to realize she had been staring.

This man in front of her, she then thought, could be accused of many things. But carelessness wasn't one of them. Every one of his actions and words was purposeful and conscious. He was well-mannered and chivalrous, and for the first time in her life, Esmeralda found herself valuing those qualities that she had so often called off as old-fashioned and stiff.

Truth be told, she hadn't met anyone who actually embodied them among her loose, laid-back cheerful people.

She tried imagining the judge climbing onto the table and drinking from a horn, and the absolute absurd of it made her involuntarily chuckle.

Frollo's expression darkened, thinking she was laughing at him for some hidden reason, and he tried to control his insecurity with a cold, detached tone:

\- I'm told you haven't been to the stables yet. Maybe you should pay them a visit.- he said, suddenly standing up and prepared to leave.

\- I'm not very keen on horses – she confessed, a little confused by his suggestion.

\- Well, perhaps you'll find something there that's more of your interest. - he replied with an enigmatic tone, and before she could ask anything else, he left the room.

* * *

**A/N: I don't know if you're looking forward as much as I am for some Fresme action... But I wanted to get there in a realistic way, for I believe there is a real way this could have happened if we understand where they both come from... So be patient! We'll get there! ;) **


	7. The Stables

Though she didn't want it to look like she was playing along, Esmeralda couldn't help but feeling curious about Frollo's suggestion. When she heard the judge leave to attend his own business, she decided there was no harm in sneaking a quick peak to the stables and see what that was all about.

When she walked through the door into the open courtyard, the sunlight almost blinded her. That made her realize, once again, how dark the inside of the Palace was. She was beginning to get used to it… and she didn't like that. So she soaked in the sun, facing up and rolling up her sleeves to leave the maximum amount of skin exposed. The heat was so soothing. She closed her eyes and for a moment, all she could hear were the birds in the nearby trees and the soft breeze moving their leaves. If she remained only listening, she could even fool herself that she was anywhere else, out in the open, free.

Suddenly, the silence was interrupted by a neighing. Esmeralda opened her eyes and looked down, covering the sun with one hand to be able to see better. The entrance to the stables was right in front of her, so she walked towards it. She entered the dim corridor, and the smell of hay and horse filled her nostrils. It was a deep, earthly smell, hot and rich, and somehow comforting. She carefully looked over the nearest wood panel, but that particular box was empty. So she walked over to the next, only to find it empty as well. So much for an adventure, she thought to herself, kind of bored.

Then she felt a warm blow of humid breath over her shoulder, and turned around to meet face to face with Frollo's horse. His massive head was just inches away from her, and he was staring in a very intimidating way.

With a gasp, she took a couple steps backwards, until she hit the wooden panels.

\- Sorry, miss! - an unexpected voice said, with a cheerful tone. - He's a nosy one!

A young teenage boy, slim as a wand, appeared under the horse's muscled neck. He had big eyes and a freckled face, and though his teeth were apart and yellowish, his smile was genuine and pure. Esmeralda liked him immediately.

\- And who would you be? - she said, smiling back warmly.

The lad blushed notoriously under her gaze, and puffing out his chest, he replied in a dignified tone:

\- I'm Patrice, the keeper of the stables, miss.

\- Wow – she replied, impressed. The boy felt such pride he was almost floating. - You must really have a hand with horses then, Patrice.

\- Everyone calls me Pat. - the boy revealed with a gentle nod.

\- Well, nice to meet you Pat. I'm Esmeralda. - she introduced herself, offering her hand.

But before the guy could shake it, the horse whined loudly, startling both of them, shaking his head and hitting the ground with his front hooves. Pat grabbed the reins and pulled him away from Esmeralda, who looked frightened.

\- Fear not, miss. He won't harm you. He's just nervous.

\- Why is that? - she asked, still distrustful and keeping her distance.

\- I do not know. He's been restless and won't eat for a few days now. Master Frollo ordered that we let him rest, and only take him on gentle walks under the sun, but he doesn't seem to be getting any better.

She looked at the horse, wondering. He seemed strong and healthy. He was, in fact, the biggest horse she had ever seen, both in height and size. She imagined the strength it would take to control and ride such a horse, and suddenly she felt an unexpected tingling in her lower belly. But before she could scold herself for that inconvenient thought, a loud bleat interrupted her.

Esmeralda turned her head to see a goat running over the cobblestones towards her, with a clinking noise coming from his right ear, where two golden rings clashed with every step.

\- Djali! - she screamed, falling to her knees and throwing her arms around the goat's neck.

The goat was so excited he couldn't stand still. His hooves kept hitting the ground with small leaps, and delighted bleats. Esmeralda also felt like leaping. This was the first moment of joy she'd had since she had arrived at the Palace. Being able to hug her friend warmed her heart even more than the blazing sun had before.

Pat chuckled, while taking Frollo's horse to his box, and uselessly insisting him on eating.

\- He's a devilish one, you know- he said, pointing to the goat with a smile. - He sneaks up on me on every chance he gets and then bumps into my knees from behind and makes me fall.

Esmeralda smiled at him, still kneeling besides Djali, and lovingly petting his head.

\- He means well, right Djali? He likes being the center of attention. But wait – she said, getting up and wiping her hands on her skirt, suddenly thoughtful – How did he get here?

\- Master Frollo brought him in yesterday at sundown, after his visit to the cathedral. He said Djali was to be our new guest of honor, and instructed me to place him in the biggest box, and only feed him the best patches of hay, like we feed his own horse. He ordered that he'd be treated with the utmost care.

Esmeralda's eyebrows lifted impossibly, mouth slightly opened in disbelief. She remembered his enigmatic smile when suggesting she visited the stables. "What the hell…?" How did he find out about Djali in the first place? And where did he found the goat? How had he managed to bring such a hot-headed animal all the way to his stables?

Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her heart, and frowned. Just because she was a prisoner, didn't mean that her beloved pet should have to become one as well. Pat saw the change in her facial expression.

\- What's wrong miss? Did I say something bad?

\- Oh, no, not at all. - Esmeralda quickly reassured him. - It's just… Djali is a free spirit, you see? I don't think he's made for a stable life.

\- Oh, he most certainly isn't! - the boy affirmed, with an intriguing wink. He invited her with a hand gesture to follow him.

They walked towards the other end of the corridor, where a back door opened into a small, messy backyard, filled with buckets, ladders and other stable tools. There, was the Palace's south wall, that separated the compound from the outer world. There was a crack at the top, where a few stones had fell down, and no one had repaired.

As if wanting to make a demonstration, Djali ran towards the wall, and jumping gracefully over a barrel, he effortlessly reached the crack and disappeared on the other side. After a few seconds, his face showed up again up there, and he was back in the backyard with a simple leap and a satisfied bleat.

\- You smart friend! - Esmeralda laughed, rubbing him in between the horns.

\- It's a secret, though. I don't think Master Frollo would be very pleased to know his guest of honor can run off at any moment.

\- I agree – Esmeralda said, grimly. - But don't worry. I won't tell him if you don't.

\- Deal. - Pat answered and they both smiled in complicity.

Knowing Djali was free to come and go as he pleased lifted the burden from her heart, and all that was left was joy to have her friend near again. They walked back into the stables, and suddenly Patrice stopped right on his tracks. Speaking of the devil…

\- Master Frollo! We were just… I was just… showing her around. - he said nervously, his face going alarmingly red.

But Frollo wasn't paying attention to his face. Instead his eyes were fixed on Esmeralda's, trying to decipher her expression.

He had wanted to see her reunite with her pet, see her reaction and try to gain some ground with her. But he didn't want to be too obvious, so he had prepared an excuse.

\- I came to check on my horse. - he announced plainly, turning his back on them and walking towards the compartment.

Pat threw Esmeralda a relieved look and rushed to his master. Esmeralda walked slowly towards them as well, keeping her distance.

\- He still hasn't eaten – the boy announced with a worried voice.

Frollo was observing from the door, but the horse didn't come near him. Instead, he was cornered into the furthest point from the man.

The judge's deep frowned was of pure concern.

\- Did you take him out for a walk? - he asked the stable boy.

\- Yes Sir, we just got back. But he was restless the whole time, though he doesn't seem to be hurting anywhere specific.

\- I don't understand. - Frollo replied, rubbing himself in between the eyes with frustration.

It was weird for Esmeralda to see him like that. Discovering a new facet of the many that hid underneath his always composed appearance. He was worried. Caring.

It upset her that he could show such concern for a horse and at the same time, have no mercy towards humans. _Most humans_, at least.

\- I'm sorry. - Pat apologized, nervously rubbing his hands and looking down, almost about to tear up.

\- Don't worry, it's not your fault. - Frollo replied, absently, his eyes still fixed on the beast.

_Wow… had that been a glimpse of gentleness? _

Esmeralda took a few steps forward, and stood by Frollo's side, also looking at the horse. She could feel Frollo stiffen next to her, but he didn't move.

The animal was throwing his head up and down, anxiously. His short hair allowed them to notice how the pulse on his neck artery was accelerated. He was clearly in distress.

Esmeralda was certainly afraid to come closer to such a huge, unpredictable creature, but her compassion overcame her fear.

She slowly walked towards him. She heard Frollo inhale as if to say something, but he decided to remain quiet and observe.

\- It's okay – she whispered to the horse, that was looking at her with wide eyes. - It's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you.

She slowly raised her hand and placed it near the animal's nostrils, so he could smell her. The horse carefully sniffed, and lowered his head a bit, as if granting his permission to come closer. So she did, and with a soft but firm movement, she placed her hands on his neck.

Frollo was holding his breath. His horse wasn't aggressive, but he certainly wasn't keen on pampering either. He usually never allowed anyone but himself and Pat to touch him. In his current state of nervousness, Frollo was afraid he could react violently and involuntarily hurt the girl.

But the horse seemed to find her touch soothing. His breathing was still shallow and fast, but he had stopped moving and kicking the floor. Esmeralda started caressing his long neck up and down, while whispering gentle words into his ears that Frollo could barely discern.

\- He likes you. - he pointed, surprised.

She looked at him for a second, with a brief hint of a smile, and then turned her attention back to the horse.

\- When was the last time you mounted him? - she asked, out of the blue.

Frollo was caught off guard and had to ponder for a second.

\- Last week – he said, in a tense tone, before adding – the night at the mill.

Esmeralda's body involuntarily tensed as well. For a second, her whole mind had been on the animals, the stable boy, the present. But the memories of the burning mill and the screaming family, and Phoebus's rescue, and the arrow to his heart while fleeing on that very horse… She shook her head, trying to focus again. However, remembering that helped confirm her suspicions.

\- I think he's just scared.

\- What? Scared of what?

\- Think about it – she began, trying to keep a neutral, non accusatory tone – All animals are afraid of fire, and loud sounds. The chaos around him, being unwillingly mounted by...- she hesitated for a second – a stranger, the arrows flying past him. He must have been scared to death.

Frollo stared at her with an impenetrable expression. He felt the unspoken reproval in her words, but at the same time, he could tell she didn't mean them as an attack. He just wasn't sure how to react or what to say now. Esmeralda noticed this, and tried to break the silence.

\- Maybe he just needs your reassurance. If you haven't spend time with him this week, that may be what's wrong. He trusts you. Maybe try telling him everything's okay?

He lifted one eyebrow, skeptically. But he decided there was no harm in trying, so he took of his cape and chaperon and left them on a small wooden stool before entering the box.

Esmeralda made room for him, and gave the both of them some space, retiring to the entrance.

The horse blew heavily, getting nervous again, but the man quickly placed his hands on his muzzle, with a reassuring firmness. The animal stood still, calming his breath.

Then Frollo started murmuring with a lowered, profound voice:

\- There you go, my friend. See? Nothing to fear here.

Esmeralda's reaction to his voice took her completely by surprise. Her whole body trembled like a dry leaf in the wind when his deep sound reverberated in her ears. It was so soft, like black velvet. She had to fight the temptation to close her eyes in order to pay the sound her whole attention and be aware of every vibration of it. Sure, she knew the man had a low voice, but she was used to hear him use it in trying to conceal his emotions. But this time it was the opposite; he was trying to convey his emotion, and not just any emotion; love, and safety.

It was absolutely mesmerizing. She forced herself to snap out of it, and asked the first thing that came to her mind:

\- How long have you had him?

Frollo made a humming sound has he tried to recall, which didn't help with the heat she was feeling.

\- It's been almost twenty years now. I got him when he was a young stud, from an ignorant man who intended to use him for heavy work in the fields. I don't know where he got him from. But I saw his potential, though he wasn't as big as he is now, and offered the man a fair amount for him. - he explained, all the while still soothing the horse, who, by now, appeared much calmer.

\- Maybe you should try feeding him yourself, Sir. - Pat suggested from the corridor.

\- That's actually a good idea – Esmeralda approved with a smile towards the boy, who smiled back humbly.

Frollo went to the feeder and took some hay in his hand. He carefully placed it under his horse's mouth, who, after a quick sniff started chewing on it happily.

The man let out a sigh of relief, and much to her regret, Esmeralda couldn't help but smile with sympathy for both of them. Frollo turned around and saw it, but she quickly diverted his attention asking another question:

\- What's his name?

The apparently innocent question shifted the energy of the atmosphere instantly. Pat stiffened and turned around nervously, as if wanting to flee the scene but without being obvious about it. Esmeralda looked at him intrigued, and then at Frollo. He had his eyes fixated on the floor and a very strange look on his face that she couldn't identify. He answered something between his teeth, but in such a low whisper that she couldn't understand it.

\- What did you say?

Frollo sighed with exasperation, and finally repeated in a clearer tone:

\- _Snowball_. His name is Snowball.

Esmeralda looked at the man, whose face was slightly blushed, and then at the massive, black as a moonless night, imposing horse.

And then she burst out laughing. It was a clean, bubbling laugh, and she couldn't stop. It felt as if all the tension, the anger, the sadness she had bottled up inside in resignation was pouring out of her, transmuted into this hysterical laugh that made her tear up.

Pat was looking at her, horrified. He knew that the horse's name was a forbidden subject in the presence of his master. It had been the previous owner who named him, intending it to be a joke due to the horse's dark color and personality. And, as hard as Frollo had tried to rename him, the horse only answered to his original one. So finally he'd had to accept it, as much as he despised having a horse with a cheesy pun for a name. But it was a very sensitive matter; any time he overheard his guards or anyone at the stables joking about it he was infuriated and there were unpleasant consequences for anyone who had dared to laugh at it.

Frollo himself was in shock. He was waiting for the familiar wave of boiling shame turned to anger in his veins, but instead a much softer, though also warm feeling sent a quiet tingling through his arms and chest. It was the first time he had hear her laugh. And this wasn't just a chuckle, or a seductive giggle like the one she used to address to anyone who'd give her some coins while dancing on the streets.

This was pure, unfiltered joy, coming right out of her belly. And it was exquisite. To his own surprise, he felt his lips curling up in a smile, at the sight of her having to clutch to a post in order to not lose her balance, her face all red and shiny.

He wanted to go ahead and help her stand, wipe the tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks, and just soak in all that bubbling energy. But instead he stood there, with a shy titter.

Pat was utterly astonished. But watching his master timidly laugh, he dared to also throw a discrete smile his way. Frollo's almost relaxed expression felt so foreign on his face that for a second there, the lad felt as if he was looking at a different man. And just when everything seemed to have gone the right way, a loud sound startled all three of them.

The wooden stool had been knocked over by Djali, in a successful attempt to grab the red silk strip hanging from Frollo's chaperon, that was now proudly being chewed away on his mouth.

Esmeralda gasped loudly, covering her mouth with her hands in horror. Pat looked at Frollo, whose smile had frozen on his pale face. He braced himself for an explosion.

But, to Frollo's own surprise, he just frowned affectionately at Djali, like you would with a naughty child, and with a carefree gesture of his hand, he said:

\- Let him keep it. It was worn out anyway. I'll have a new one made.

Esmeralda looked at him in disbelief.

\- Are you sure…? Maybe I can just … - she started, intending to kneel beside the goat and try to remove the hat from his mouth. But she was frozen on the spot when she felt Frollo's cold hand impulsively grabbing her own, as he stopped her.

\- Leave him, it's alright. - he said, before realizing what he had just done.

Time stood still for an instant. They both looked at each other, Esmeralda's eyes still wet from her previous laughter, and Frollo's suddenly burning ablaze.

Every bone on his body wanted to pull her closer, but he was rigid as if he had just turned to stone. He didn't even dare to breathe. He was expecting her displeased reaction any second now.

But it didn't came. Instead, (much to her own surprise), she surrounded his fingers and gently pressed them.

\- Thank you – she mumbled, hoarsely. And taking a step towards him, she placed her other hand around his as well, and looked deeply into his eyes. - And thank you for bringing him here. - she added, pointing her head to the goat, still busy chewing on the remnants of the hat.

Frollo was speechless. He feared if he opened his mouth, all sorts of confessions and hidden truths would pour out uncontrollably. His inexperience dealing with women, or feelings of that sort, was so utter that he had no clue of what was expected from him at that point. His insecurity climbed up his chest like an avid monster, swallowing all the warmth and confidence he had felt just moments ago. He pulled away abruptly, releasing his hand, and with a tone much colder, more usual in him, he stated:

\- Well, I don't have time for this. I'm a busy man. I should be on my way.

And grabbing his cloak from the floor, shaking it to take the hay and dust off, he walked away without looking back.


	8. The Truth

Frollo didn't show up for lunch. When Esmeralda arrived at the dining room, she was disappointed to see that his chair was empty, and the table was set just for one.

\- Won't Minister Frollo be joining us? - she asked one of the servants.

\- No, miss. - he replied timidly, not used to being spoken to.

\- Why?

\- I… - the servant cleared his throat, visibly nervous, not sure how much information he was allowed to reveal. - I believe he had matters to attend in the city, miss. Sometimes when his work takes longer than expected, he will eat outside the palace, miss.

\- I see. Thank you – she said kindly, and with a quick relieved nod, the servant poured water on her glass and left swiftly.

She wasn't sure she believed that explanation, anyway. Their encounter at the stables had been weird and unexpected, and she had been able to see the discomfort this had caused him. Maybe he was avoiding her.

Or maybe he was just actually busy. She didn't know, and it bothered her not to know.

She was so used to reading people like an open book. She usually could tell what everyone was feeling, sometimes even accurately guess their thoughts. She could see people's intentions from a mile away, and she was almost never caught off guard. She was also able to tell when someone was lying, or hiding something.

All of this gave her an upper hand when dealing with people, either friends or enemies, and she had learned to trust her intuition and let it become her guiding light.

But Frollo was dark as midnight at the forest, and her usual lantern was completely swallowed by the uncertainty of what would be waiting behind the next tree. She still hadn't been able to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted from her.

When she had agreed to their deal, she had picture torture and punishment, him releasing his violent sadistic urges rampantly upon her, making her pay for her defiance and mockery, restoring himself to a position of power and control. And though this unknowing was, indeed, torture for her... She didn't believe he meant it to be so. He had actually tried to make her comfortable there. He had even made sure her goat was comfortable, for God's sake!

Which took her to her second guess. If Frollo didn't want her there because he yearned to restore his wounded ego… maybe he wanted to quench a different kind of thirst at her expense. Though he didn't act like any other man she knew, Esmeralda recalled their encounter at the cathedral, right after the festival, when Phoebus had made her claim sanctuary in order to protect her.

While the archdeacon was distracted escorting the soldiers out, Frollo had stayed behind, hiding under a pillar. When he was sure no one was looking, he had crept on her from behind and grabbed her arm, twisting it backwards.

He had intended to intimidate her, making feel claustrophobic at the cathedral in order to lure her outside.

But then the weirdest thing had happened. He had sniffed her hair. And feeling that, hearing that, Esmeralda had felt an electric shock through her entire body, a shock that she translated as terror. For it was in that moment that she realized there was something else going on, besides the Judge's anger towards her disobedience. He was drawn to her.

Right afterwards he had accused her of planting unholy thoughts in his mind, which she secretly feared was a rightful accusation. In all truth, she had been the one to purposefully jump onto his lap in the middle of her seductive dance. Though nothing she had done justified the man's following madness, of that she was certain.

An imperceptible cough took her out of her thoughts. The servant was standing beside her, as if waiting for an answer to a question she hadn't even heard.

\- I'm sorry, what? - she said, shaking her head.

\- Are you done, miss? - he repeated, pointing to her empty plate.

\- Oh! Yes. Yes, thank you. - she answered, picking up the napkin from her lap and softly laying it on the table.

She went up to her chambers, where she started pacing restlessly as her thoughts started to flood her mind again.

The thing was, since she had arrived at the Palace, the man hadn't shown any signs of attraction again. He had kept his distance, barely looked at her in the face unless he was upset about something, seemed visibly uncomfortable in her proximity and avoided her company entirely for most of the day.

He didn't seem to have the slightest intention to increase their personal intimacy, let alone their physical one.

Which was a relief.

_Right?_

Right.

_...Was it though? _

Esmeralda felt as if the room had started spinning around her. She felt dizzy, and walked to the ceramic basin, pouring some water on it and refreshing her heated face. She looked up to the mirror, and watched herself, the hair at the edge of her face still dripping.

\- What the hell is wrong with you!? - she scolded herself, hiding her face between her hands, and turning around to sit on the bed's edge.

So far she had been focusing on trying to figure out Frollo's intentions. But she knew that the actual source of her anxiety laid on what she had been focusing **_not_** to think about. Her own feelings.

She didn't even want to consider it for a moment. She felt that if she did, she would be opening the door for all kinds of dark, terrifying realizations about herself that she wasn't ready to face.

She had always supported herself on her values. Her moral. That's what gave her strength and courage to do the right thing. That's what made her who she was.

And her moral told her that Frollo was a ruthless, corrupted man who had terrified her city for years only to end up setting fire to it in a murderous search for her and everyone she loved.

_But he had eventually let them go without harm. And he was trying to rebuild what had been burned… _

That voice! Where did that inner, annoying voice come from? Needed she remind herself that the only reason he had let the gypsies go was that she had pledged him her own freedom? That wasn't compassion, that was blackmail.

The inner advocate of the devil shut its mouth. There was no defending Frollo. Even if he possessed hidden facets of himself, like the one she had witnessed that morning at the stables, that didn't change the other parts of him, the ones displayed at plain sight for everyone to behold and fear.

Which made it even worse that she didn't just feel despise towards the man.

What did it say about herself that she had been disappointed when he didn't show up at lunch? What did it say about herself that she had dwelled on the sound of his voice when he was soothing his horse, secretly craving to hear that voice directed at her own ears? What did it say about herself that, whenever he was close, her heart started pounding in her chest, pumping adrenaline to her veins, but also heat to her lower regions? She realized then that the electric shock she had felt when he smelled her hair hadn't been one of fear, at all.

Was she utterly insane? Feeling that way about the cruelest man in Paris? The one that had stolen her life away?

Who was she? Wasn't it worse, being attracted to a monster, than being the monster itself?

Didn't that turned her into the same kind of evil he was?

She didn't understand her own heart, her own traitorous body.

She felt she was losing herself.

But the scariest part of all was that, deep down… she also felt she was, for the first time in her life, truly finding herself. 

* * *

**A/N: thank you for your kind reviews! they encourage me to keep writing ;) I'm glad you also enjoy the slow build-up (not that I don't appreciate a good one-shot now and then, but I rather see how things unfold ;) ) **


	9. The Library

When Esmeralda opened her eyes, her chamber was in complete darkness. She felt confused for a moment. What had happened?

She got up from the bed. She must have fallen asleep without realizing it, after torturing her brain for hours. The sun had set and the night had fallen over the city. It probably was dinner time already.

So she fixed her clothes and combed her hair with her fingers, getting ready to go downstairs and hopefully get some clarity on what the hell was going on with Frollo. But when she opened the door, she found her maid right on the other side of it, holding a silver tray with a bowl of soup, some bread and cheese, and some scrambled eggs.

\- Oh, miss, you scared me! - she said, almost dropping the tray to the ground.

Esmeralda quickly reacted and helped her grab it before it fell down. The maid walked into the chamber towards the table.

\- What's going on? - Esmeralda asked her impatiently.

\- I'm bringing you dinner, miss. - the maid answered, as if stating the obvious.

\- So Minister Frollo hasn't returned yet?

\- Well… yes, he has. - she replied hesitantly.

Esmeralda didn't want to be rude to her, but she was getting annoyed by the minute.

\- Then why aren't we eating diner at the dining room?

The maid made a complaining moan, apparently torn between the wish to answer and the obligation not to.

\- Tell me – Esmeralda urged her, daring to gently touch her arm, in an attempt to gain her complicity.

\- Well, miss...- she finally gave in. - He is eating at the dining room. But he ordered that we bring you your supper here, to your chamber.

The words were like a punch to her stomach.

\- Do you know why? - she asked, hoarsely.

\- He has a guest. - the maid revealed.

\- Who is it?

\- I don't know him, ma'am. - "him". As much as it pissed her off, Esmeralda couldn't help but feeling relieved that it wasn't a woman. - I think he's an important man here in the city, he's been here some times before. But that's all I know, I swear.

Esmeralda briefly smiled at her with gratitude, and the alleviated woman quickly set out to light the fireplace and bring some light and heat into the room, before leaving with a small nod in her direction.

Once she was alone, the mental rambling began again. Why would have he excluded her from dining with his guest? Wasn't she another guest (his words, not hers) at the palace? Was he still avoiding her because of that brief moment of interaction at the stables? Or did he wanna hide her away from any other men like a dragon guarding its precious treasure chest?

The more she thought about it, the more indignant she became. Whatever his reason was, she didn't like it. For a second she considered going downstairs anyway and play pretend she didn't know that she wasn't supposed to be there.

But then she would be putting the maid in a bad position with her master, and Esmeralda suspected it wasn't pretty, getting on his bad side.

So she sighed and proceeded to eat dinner, though her appetite was gone.

A couple hours later, the softest knock on the door announced the maid's return to gather the empty tray and ask her if she needed anything else for the night.

\- I'm good, thank you. - Esmeralda replied distracted, but then she gave it a second thought. - Actually, do you know if the judge's guest is still here?

\- No, miss. He left a few minutes ago. He seemed quite… tipsy, if you ask me. I believe master Frollo offered him one of his finest bottles of wine. They must have been making business.

Her sudden disposition to talk made Esmeralda think that the maid had probably sneaked out a glass of wine herself once the dinner service was over. So she decided to seize the opportunity and asked further.

\- And do you know where I can find Frollo now?

\- He's probably at the library. He always likes to go up there after dinner, have a glass of wine and unwind in between his books.

\- And the library would be…?

\- It's on the second floor miss. I can take you if you wish. - the maid answered readily, but suddenly her expression shifted, as she absorbed what she had just said. - Although I don't really think you should go up there, miss. Master Frollo doesn't like to be disturbed. I don't think he would be very happy with me if I…

\- Don't worry. - Esmeralda quickly interrupted her. - You don't have to take me. You're probably right, it's better if we leave him alone.

The maid smiled relieved and wishing her goodnight, she took the tray and disappeared down the hallway, clumsily tripping a little.

Esmeralda waited until she was gone, and then started the walk upstairs.

* * *

The flames were reflecting on the dark garnet surface inside his glass. He had been fascinated by fire for as long as he could remember.

Everything about it was hypnotic. The changing colors, dancing sensually like lovers around the trunks. The soft crackling sound, more pleasing to his ears than any kind of music he'd ever heard. The smokey smell that made him feel so relaxed, safe, at home… 'cause it brought him back to his childhood nights, before everything had been ruined.

And the heat. God, he loved the heat. He didn't know if it was due to his slender complexion, or his chronic repression of his own energy, but Frollo had felt cold his entire life. His skin was always cold, his hands were always cold. Even his heart was always cold.

But that had changed when he had met her. An unknown, uncontrollable heat had come over him like a fever, invading his body, his mind and his soul. He had turned to fire, his eternal loyal companion, to try to overpower and consume the source of his illness. But he had ended up saving said source from the pyre, and keeping her under his same roof. And now he feared the illness would rise again, and this time it would destroy him.

But… what if it wasn't an illness? What if he only considered it to be so, because he had been repressed and restraint his whole life? What if that was the real illness and this was actually the cure?

Though, _a voice in his mind asked_, how could he consider healthy the same thing that had driven him to destroy part of the city under his care?

Well, at least he was making amends for that,_ he reassured himself_. Just tonight, he had secured a safe accommodation for the innocent families affected by his pyromaniac actions. Monsieur Flamcourt owned a few properties on the city, and Frollo had convinced him that it was the christian thing to do to provide free housing for those poor families in need. Granted, it had taken a subtle but clear insinuation that in doing so, Mr Flamcourt would be gaining the Judge's favor, if he ever found himself in a position of needing a friend in court.

However, Frollo had been smart enough to imply that without getting his fingers burnt with any formal promises, for he wasn't willing to compromise his integrity for the sake of some unfortunate commoners, even if he was the cause of their misfortune.

So he was quite pleased with himself, and he took another sip of wine as a reward. But he almost choked on it when a voice broke the silence just behind his back.

\- So here's where you've been hiding. - Esmeralda said, mockingly.

\- What are you doing here? - Frollo asked, still coughing from the wine going down the wrong pipe.

\- Oh, I'm sorry, am I not allowed here either? - she asked, faking concern.

He stood up from his seat, leaving the glass on a small table beside it, and facing the woman that stood with her arms crossed staring at him.

\- I beg you pardon?

\- Oh, come on. - she said frustrated, dropping her arms. - I know you had me banned from the dining room tonight while your guest was here. I thought I was a guest as well, am I not?

Frollo's face darkened with a frown. Esmeralda realized she had revealed too much, and internally scolded herself for betraying the maid's trust. But it didn't matter now. She wanted an explanation.

\- Tell me – she insisted. - Why must I eat alone while you enjoy a fancy dinner in company?

\- I just didn't think it was appropriate. - the judge answered carefully.

\- Appropriate? What do you mean? What can possibly be inappropriate about having me join you two for dinner? - she inquired, before quickly adding – Is it because I'm a woman?

\- No – he quickly assured.- It's because you are… you.

\- And what the hell is that supposed to mean? - she exploded, raising her tone irritated.

Frollo threw her a meaningful look, that she didn't understand. With a sigh, he proceeded to explain.

\- Well, for starters, that language isn't adequate for a formal dinner.

\- Oh, come on! You don't think I can hold my tongue if the situation calls for it?

\- It's not just that.

\- What else, then?

The judge looked uncomfortable and upset. He gave her whole outfit a passing glance, from her loose hair to her naked feet. Esmeralda followed his eye's direction and understood.

\- Oh… I see. It's not because I'm a woman. It's because I'm a gypsy.

Frollo made a grimace, as if the mere word tasted bitter on his lips. This infuriated Esmeralda even more.

\- You're such a hypocrite. - she spat, resentful. Frollo stiffened and she could see his fists clenching. But her anger exceeded her caution. - You detest gypsies, yet here you are, keeping me hostage for God knows what depraved motivations, but hey… as long as no one is watching, no harm done, right, _your honor_?

Frollo exhaled violently, his eyes burning with rage, and he walked towards her with a strong determination. But she didn't back down. So there they were, face to face barely inches away, again in a staring contest for the upper hand in their power fight.

Frollo wanted to hurt her the same way she was hurting him with her poisonous, yet truthful words. So he counterattacked:

\- Yes, how did I dare keep such a _polite, gracious lady_ away from dinner with a worthy gentleman?

\- You don't know me – she whispered between her gritted teeth.

\- You're right. I thought you were different. But you're just another street rat like the rest of them.

Esmeralda's hand flew towards his face instantly, but the slap never happened, for he had been ready for it and caught her wrist in the air.

\- Let me go! - she shouted, pulling away with all her strength. But he was surprisingly stronger, and kept an iron grip on her arm.

\- Are you sure that's what you want, witch?

\- Are you mad? Of course it's what I want, let go of me! - she ordered, twisting her arm violently trying to force him to release her. But she was unsuccessful, so she tried pushing him away instead with her free hand.

_Big mistake._

He grabbed her other wrist as well, pulling her towards his chest. She had never been this close to him, and she realized how tall he was. She was a tall woman herself, but her eyes were at the level of his neck. It was then when he unknowingly hit her with his most powerful weapon thus far, even more than his low baritone voice; his smell.

It hit her unexpectedly while she was inhaling sharply, trying to defend herself, and abruptly left her mind totally blank.

He smelled like all her favorite scents had been meticulously mixed into one. There was wood, and smoke from the fireplace. The rich, soft smell of the velvet robes he was wearing. And the sweet, sharp smell of wine coming out from his lips. But there was something else, something that belonged only to him, emanating from his skin. He smelled like a summer storm, like rain falling on the warm fields and lifting all kinds of comforting but exciting smells from the ground. He smelled like feeling alive, wild, and free.

Her brain started sparkling as if she had been the one drinking, and it sent waves of electric pleasure down her neck, through her back and legs to the soles of her feet. It was so intense, and magnetic, that everything else disappeared for a second, and all the emotions that were raging in her chest just seconds ago, vanished without a trace.

Frollo felt the shift in her energy; she had stopped resisting, and she was frozen still, as a prey facing its predator.

He didn't know what had caused the change, but it was so obviously related to him that it provided him with enough confidence to lean into her ear and whisper:

\- You seem so eager to leave, for a woman who complained this much about not having dinner with me.

And just like that, the spell was broken. Esmeralda snapped back into reality, and with a final pull, she managed to release both her wrists from his grip. Without looking up, she ran towards the door, so he wouldn't see her eyes filling with tears.


	10. Pat's story

None of them slept well that night.

Frollo was scolding himself for losing his temper and at the same time, he was mad at the way she had pushed his buttons like that, insistently pressing towards an answer that she didn't actually want to hear. She had had it coming.

But a small part of himself was also hopeful. There had been that moment, right before she left. Up until then, he had thought that the gypsy merely despised him and at most, she was willing to be cordial in order to remain on his good side.

But now he was starting to suspect that maybe she held other type of feelings for him as well. He had felt it, when she was forcefully pressed against his chest. But he didn't dare to believe it. It was impossible, was it?

He had never awoken that kind of feelings in anyone before. He was much older than her, and she probably saw him as an old, cruel man, keeping her as a prisoner against her will. There was no way she could feel something other than hate and disgust towards him. _And yet… _

Esmeralda, on the other hand, was furious. She kept turning around in bed, too upset to be able to relax, let alone sleep. How could she have thought, even for a second, that there was some good inside of that racist bigot? And the way he had accused her of making a scene, as if she was begging for his company like a capricious little girl? God, she couldn't stand the man at all!

But the anger she held towards him was not even a fraction of the burning rage towards herself. She had been caught up in his game, blinded by his mysterious depths, and his voice, and his smell… _See? There she went again! _

She buried her face in the pillow and screamed, infuriated. Why was this happening to her? Apparently she couldn't trust herself anymore. All sorts of thoughts raced through her altered mind.

What if she escaped?

No, that wasn't an option. _Remember what he said. He will chase after me and everyone else, and then it will all have been in vain. _

What if she killed him?

No. Of course not! She wasn't a murderer. And as much as she hated Frollo, she didn't want to see him dead… for most of the time, anyway.

What if she seduced him? Make him lose himself to her, finally wining their endless battle for power and control?

That felt like a valid option. Even an exciting one. Which made her immediately realize it was the most dangerous option of all. She wanted to get away from the man, not closer to him.

Esmeralda noticed with a suffocated gasp that the thought of seducing him, even if just as a strategy, had suddenly invoked some wetness between her thighs.

She almost jumped out from bed. She needed fresh air.

* * *

The horses were sleeping. Esmeralda walked carefully down the stable's corridor, trying not to wake them up. She could hear them breath steadily, and the sound helped her relax a little bit.

Djali's box was at the end of the row. He must have smelled her, for when she got to the door he was already awake and waiting for her.

\- Hi! - she whispered, slowly opening the wood panel and closing it behind her.

The goat placed his front legs on Esmeralda's thighs as a greeting, and she kneeled beside him. His presence and familiar smell made her mind and heart slow down. Djali pressed his head affectionately against her chest, and laid down over her lap. She surrounded him with her arms, so grateful to have him there. His love for her was unconditional. None of her doubts or inappropriate feelings mattered to him. She was just Esmeralda, worthy of all his love and loyalty. She wished she could see herself through such kindness as well.

She laid down on the hay, and still hugging Djali's warm body, she fell asleep.

\- Are you okay? - a concerned voice woke her up.

She opened her eyes, confused, and was immediately blinded by sunlight. She raised a hand to create some shadow and she found Patrice's face scrutinizing her own, with a frown of worry.

\- Hi Pat – she said with a nasal voice, still adjusting.

\- What are you doing miss? Did you sleep here? - he asked, confused.

\- I couldn't sleep – she explained, getting up from the ground and removing some hay from her hair. - I came for a visit and must have dozed off. What time is it?

\- It's been a while since dawn. - the boy answered, opening the wood panel for her.

\- I see… - Esmeralda replied, grimly, stepping into the corridor.

\- What's the matter?

\- It's nothing. I just don't feel like joining the minister for breakfast, that's all.

\- You can stay here if you want. - Pat suggested. - I was about to have breakfast myself, after I finished feeding the horses. I can't offer you much, but… - he pointed out, embarrassed.

\- I would love that. - Esmeralda quickly confirmed, with a wide smile. - But maybe we should let Frollo know. I don't want him worrying if I don't show up.

\- I'll tell you what. If you don't mind feeding the last two horses for me, I'll run to the kitchen and tell Magdalene that you're safe here, so she can tell Master Frollo.

\- That would be perfect. - she said, grabbing the wheelbarrow from him with a wink. Pat blushed and took off fast.

* * *

\- So – he began, once they were sitting together by the fire at Patrice's small bedroom, behind the stables – what's going on with you and master Frollo?

Esmeralda was surprised by the boy's bluntness. He had caught her off guard, while chewing on a piece of bread and holding a steaming cup of tea. She cleared her throat, carefully choosing her next words.

\- Do you know why I'm here, Pat?

The boy hesitated for a second.

\- Not really… Master Frollo told me you would be staying as his guest, and as you know, he told me to take great care of your Djali. But that's all he said.

Esmeralda didn't buy it. She knew servants talked behind their backs, and rumors in the city spread faster than wildfire. So she lifted a skeptic eyebrow, with half a smile, and the boy smiled nervously back, giving in.

\- I heard you caused some stirring at the Festival, and that he… captured you all afterwards. But he let everyone go, except for you.

\- Yes, that pretty much sums it up. - she answered, nodding slowly.

\- Why did he keep you here? - Pat asked carefully.

\- I honestly don't know Pat. I wish that I knew. - she replied with a sigh.

\- Don't you like it here? - he inquired, as if he was surprised by that thought.

Esmeralda looked at him with surprise of her own. She realized that Pat was the only one at the Palace that didn't seem frightened by Frollo. Of course, he was very respectful and careful around the man, but when the boy spoke about his master, there wasn't any dread in his tone, unlike every other servant she had seen there.

\- How old are you, Pat? - she asked, out of the blue.

\- Fourteen, miss. - he said shyly, worrying that she might consider him too young to have an adult conversation.

\- And how long have you been here as the stable's keeper?

\- Since I was 9.

Esmeralda frowned, struggling to understand what had made Frollo hire such a small boy to take care of his precious horses. She raised her palm in an inviting gesture to explain further.

\- I used to live with my father at the farm. My mother died giving birth to me.- he began.

\- I'm so sorry. - Esmeralda said in an understanding tone. - I also lost my parents when I was a baby.

The boy smiled sympathetically, and throwing another piece of wood at the fireplace, he continued his story.

\- We lived at the outskirts of town, where the farm fields were. We didn't have much, though we managed to get through the day. We worked from sunrise to sunset. - he made a pause, as if he was gathering his strength to keep going. - But at night my father would have a drink and then he would start complaining about our life, saying that we would starve to death if I didn't work harder, and talking about my mother. Some nights he ended up crying… others he blamed it on me. He said I killed her.

\- Oh my God. - Esmeralda gasped, horrified. - You didn't! You know that, right Pat?

\- I know now. - he stated, calmly. In that moment, he seemed much older and mature, with his usually cheerful face darkened by the memories. - Anyway… one night we heard a knock at our door. When my father opened it, master Frollo was standing on the other side. Of course, I didn't know who he was then, but I could see my father's face go pale. Frollo said he had just gotten back from a long journey, and wondered if we could offer his horse some water to resume the way home. My father invited him in, with his hands shaking as he tried to keep his composure and hide his drunken state. He ordered me to take Frollo's horse to our stable and feed him some straw and water.

Esmeralda was completely focused on his story, so much that she forgot to drink the tea that was getting colder on her cup.

\- It was the biggest horse I had seen in my entire life – Pat continued. - And I was kind of afraid of it.

\- Yeah, I can imagine. - she said, nodding.

\- So I was a little jumpy. And while holding the water bucket, Snowball made a sudden neigh and startled me. The bucket fell and all the water was spilled over the ground. - Pat explained grimly.

\- What happened then? - Esmeralda asked carefully.

\- My father heard the sound and came over to see what was going on. When he saw what had happened, he started scolding me harshly. He called me a useless moron.

Esmeralda frowned, visibly upset.

\- Frollo told him it was alright, it was just water. But I think my father was trying to prove a point, to show the judge his authority or something. He kept shouting at me and then he pushed me to the ground and, with a horse whip on his hand, ordered me to drink the spilled water from the floor so I'd knew better than to waste it.

\- What!?- Esmeralda screamed, leaning forward so violently that the cup fell from her hand and crashed into the floor. - Damn it! - she cursed, quickly getting down to collect the pieces. - I'm sorry!

\- Don't worry about it, miss, please. It's just an old cup! - Pat replied soothingly, while helping her clean up the mess. - I won't make you drink the spilled tea, I promise. - he joked.

Esmeralda looked at him in disbelief. How could he joke about something like that? Something so horrifying? Her eyes started tearing up, just thinking about the poor boy.

\- Hey, it's okay – Pat quickly said, gently placing his palm on Esmeralda's forearm. - That was the best thing that could have happened to me.

\- How come? - she asked puzzled.

\- 'Cause master Frollo was there to hear it. - he explained, getting up from the ground and helping her get back on her chair.

He took the broken pieces to the table, and dried the wet floor with a cloth before also sitting next to her again. Esmeralda was anxiously waiting for what would come next.

\- When he heard my father say that, he lost it. His polite, formally restraint appearance shattered, and his face was red with anger. He threw my father a killing glance, and pushed him aside with surprising strength. My father crashed into the wall and collapsed to the floor, terrified of him. Frollo walked towards him and told him that that was no way to treat his son, and that if he ever heard he was mistreating a child like that, he would have him locked up for the rest of his life.

Esmeralda was frozen, covering her mouth with her hand.

\- After that, he helped me get up and he asked me if I knew how to work with horses. I was shaking and too scared to open my mouth, but he kneeled before me, placing his hands on my shoulders reassuringly. He looked me in the eye and I saw a steadiness, a type of safety I'd never felt before. So I said I knew my way around a mule, which is what we had at the farm. He then asked me if I was willing to leave with him and learn what there is to know about horses.

Esmeralda's eyes were flooded. Her heart was shrunken inside her chest, as if being squeezed by an iron fist. She didn't dare speak a single word to interrupt the boy's story. He smiled at her, and with a shrug of his shoulders he said:

\- You can guess the rest of it. He helped me gather my few belongings and placed me over his horse. I'd never mounted a horse before, but he held me firmly and promised he wouldn't let me fall. We rode back to the palace, and though it was late, he always kept a slow pace so I wouldn't be scared. When we got here, he said he would set up a chamber for me at the stables, and meanwhile, he took me to his dining room and fed me the most amazing meal I'd ever had. I had never been to a place like this, you see, so luxurious. I felt like I was dreaming. The following weeks, he taught me how to handle his horse and the rest of them. He's a strict teacher, and not the easiest man to deal with… but I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. I owe him everything. He saved my life.


	11. Beauty

Esmeralda didn't want to think about any of it. It was too much. Every time she thought she was figuring it out, some new piece of information shattered the whole picture again. She needed a break from her inner turmoil.

So she decided to spend the day helping Pat out at the stables, with Djali following her around happily. She helped brush the horses, and saddle the ones that were being taken by the soldiers to do their daily round in the city. When it was noon, she started worrying about lunch, but Pat gave her some good news:

\- Oh, it's your lucky day miss! Master Frollo always eats lunch at the cathedral with his son on Wednesdays.

\- His son? You mean Quasimodo?

\- Yes, his adoptive son that is, of course.

Esmeralda was surprised to hear him call Quasimodo Frollo's son. She knew he had adopted him when he had been abandoned at birth at Notre Dame's steps. But given what she had seen of their relationship, the word "son" felt too affectionate to describe it.

However, she was glad to hear from her friend again, and wondered if maybe Frollo would be willing to bring her along next time he was visiting him at the cathedral. That perspective cheered her up, and she spent lunchtime with Pat laughing and joking around.

The boy even taught her some songs he had made up to entertain himself while working, and they both sang them to the horses while cleaning up the stables in the afternoon.

By the end of the day she was feeling much better, and she felt strong enough to face Frollo for dinner. But first she needed to get back to her chambers and change into clean clothes that weren't filled of dust and horse hair.

When she got out of the stables into the courtyard, the sky had darkened with heavy clouds, and a humid smell let her know rain was falling near. The sun was almost gone and the orange sunset blended with the purple storm in a magical view. She stood there, gazing at it while a cool wind began to rise. Suddenly, a bolt of lighting filled the courtyard, and she decided to hurry up inside, as the first drops started to fall.

For the first time, the inside of the palace felt kind of cozy, with its torches on, and the thick walls protecting its inhabitants from the coming storm. Everything was very quiet, and she figured the servants were probably busy at the kitchen and dining room, preparing everything for dinner. She climbed the stairs swiftly, but when she was about to enter her chamber, something stopped her.

There was music, coming out from somewhere. She gazed down the hall, trying to identify the source of the sound. It seemed to come from upstairs. She slowly walked up, getting closer to the melody that was reaching out to her like a siren's call. When she arrived at the top floor, she realized it came from the library. The door was slightly open, and a golden radiance showed that the fireplace was lit.

Another bolt of lighting shone brightly through the windows, and this time it was followed by the deep sound of crackling thunder, that reverberated through the empty hallways.

She took advantage of the sound to cover up her steps and reached the library's door, sliding through the opening to look at the inside.

Last night, when she had been there, she had only paid attention to Frollo. But now she stared at the shelves in the walls, covered with old books and scrolls, and some weird objects that she didn't recognize. There was a big table with some unrolled scrolls on it, and a big quill with it's tip inside an ink bottle.

Behind that, stood the seat where she had ambushed Frollo the night before, right in front of the fireplace.

At the furthest point from the door, in the dimest part of the room, there was a big object that she had never seen before. That was the source of the music. And Frollo himself was playing it.

She walked very carefully towards the man and his strange instrument. He was sitting in front of it, playing it with his fingers, that pressed a series of black and white pieces, each one producing a different song.

She didn't recognize the melody, but it was the most mesmerizing one she had ever listened to. It was so delicate, but powerful nonetheless.

Suddenly, a thunder cracked loudly, as if a ray had fallen just beside the palace, and Esmeralda gasped involuntarily at the explosion, revealing her presence to the judge.

Frollo turned around abruptly, piercing her with an accusatory look.

\- How long have you been there? - he demanded to know.

\- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. Please, don't stop. - she answered, still with a hand to her chest from the previous scare.

Frollo stared at her, confused. Last time they had seen each other she had left in a whirl of fury and tears. But there was no trace of resentment or any will to argue in her face. She just stared back at him, with a pleading look.

\- Please – she repeated – keep going. - she asked, pointing at the instrument with her head.

So the puzzled man obeyed, and turning his back at her, he placed his slender fingers over the keys again, and softly resumed his song.

Esmeralda then focused completely on listening, unaware of how her body was moving closer to him as he played.

The sound of the rain on the window glass only plunged her even deeper into a hypnotic, trance-like state.

The music was so filled with emotion, but unlike any other music she knew. She was used to dancing, festive music, or children's songs, like the ones she had been whistling along with Patrice at the stables earlier that day.

But this music was so melancholic, so sad… it spoke of loss, but also resilience. As if it was somehow taking her pain and showing her that there was a way to transcend it, to sublimate it into something higher.

Her heart was pounding strongly inside her ribs. But then she got to Frollo's side, and it stopped in between its beats when she saw the man's face. His eyes were closed. He wasn't even looking at the keys. He was playing by ear. And the longer he played, the more his usually stone-cold mask faded into an honest expression, as if he was as enraptured by the music as she was.

He looked more human than ever.

She got goosebumps all over her skin. Only then she allowed the full meaning of Pat's story to cross her defensive barriers and reach her heart. She surrendered to the truth; although she was nowhere near to understanding Claude Frollo, she knew this; he wasn't evil. An evil man would have never been able of such compassion towards an unknown child. And he wouldn't be able to produce such a moving, delicate sound as the one that was filling her whole body at that moment. He had light, somewhere inside his soul… and she wanted to reach it. _Whatever that meant about her_.

Then, the music stopped. Esmeralda felt suddenly cold, and she shuddered. She felt as if she had been sweetly held by the notes, and was now left alone. She didn't like it, so she instinctively moved closer to the instrument, bumping her leg into the bench in which he was sitting. She placed her fingertips over the keys with the utmost respect.

\- What is this? - she whispered hoarsely.

\- It's called a harpsichord. - Frollo explained, still unsure of what was happening. - It's a modern instrument, there are only a few in the world, that I know of. This one was a gift from the king. He knows of my love for music and gave it to me as a display of gratitude.

\- It's so beautiful… - she said, still mesmerized.

\- Do you… do you want to play it? - he suggested carefully, moving aside to leave her some space in the bench.

Esmeralda gave him an indecipherable look. He wasn't sure if she felt honored or repulsed by the perspective of sitting by his side. But after hesitating for a second, she sat down beside him, their legs slightly touching. Frollo felt his throat tightening, and he made an effort to swallow without her noticing. But her whole attention was on the harpsichord. She pressed one key softly, but still, the intense sound caught her by surprise.

\- I wouldn't know where to begin. - she admitted, embarrassed. - But maybe… perhaps... you could teach me? - she asked, turning her face towards him.

Frollo felt his mouth dry. Was she really suggesting that she wanted to learn from him? As in, actually spending more time with him, from a position of inferiority? He struggled to say the words, as she was expecting an answer with her wide eyes fixed on his:

\- I… I suppose I could.

She smiled and turned back towards the keys, placing both her hands over them.

\- You could teach me what you just played. It was wonderful.

\- I'm afraid I cannot teach you that. - he admitted, a little embarrassed himself.

\- Why not? You don't think I can learn it? - she asked, slightly offended.

\- It's not that. It's just… that wasn't a written piece. It was more of an… improvisation.

Her eyes widened even more, her eyebrows all the way up her forehead.

\- What do you mean? You were just… making that up as you played?

\- Well, yes.

Her hands dropped from the keys onto her lap. She lowered her face, suddenly absent.

Frollo didn't want to move, to do or say anything that could make her stand up and walk away. But when he saw her eyes beginning to tear up, he was so shocked he couldn't stop himself.

\- What's wrong?

Esmeralda shook her head.

\- It's nothing. It's just… that music… how can _that_ music come straight out of you?

Her words were like a knife to his stomach. His whole body stiffened, hearing the unspoken implications of her question. He turned his face back to the harpsichord, pressing his lips together trying not to let the hurt show. But she felt that sudden change in him and quickly looked up, unconsciously placing her hand on his knee.

\- No. That's not what I meant. - she clarified, immediately removing her hand, the second she was aware of where it was placed.

But Frollo could still feel the burning heat at the spot she had touched him.

\- I just… I don't understand. - she confessed, leaning forward to try to meet his eyes, that were fixed upon the keys and refusing to look at her.

He gave her an interrogating glance. She cleared her throat, and carefully chose her next words:

\- I don't get how you can possess such sensitivity for the beauty of music… and yet be so blind to the beauty of the world.

This statement hurt him even more, and he turned towards her with an offended expression on his face.

\- What makes you think I'm blind to the beauty of the world?

She narrowed her eyes, aware of the hurt behind his question, but unable to understand how he could not know what appeared so obvious to her.

\- Well… whenever you speak about the world, or the people in it… You sound so disappointed. You say the world is cruel, and ugly. You say people are cruel and ugly. You seem to distrust everyone.

His face softened a little, understanding why she would have that image of him. She was right, that's what he always said. But it only was because it was true.

\- And isn't it so? - he asked her, with a sad, tired hand gesture.

\- Well… yes. But also, no. - she answered, thoughtfully. - It's true that the world is messy, and chaotic. And people are messy and chaotic too. But where you see chaos… I also see freedom. And joy. You know, my people – she paused, suddenly hesitant. She knew she was stepping on thin ice here, but she was trying to prove a point. - we have always been wanderers. We never know what tomorrow will bring. But that's precisely what makes us live each day so intensely. And yes, our appearance may not be the finest, most elegant one. But our loose, colorful clothes allow us to dance better. And our bare feel help us feel the earth beneath us, and remind us that we're connected to something bigger. And if you remember the court of miracles, you'll know our homes are messy and chaotic too. I've slept on the floor my whole life. But we always share what we have, and you know you're never alone there. Common people may be simple, even dull at your eyes… but they know how to laugh, and how to love. I believe that's truly beautiful. And I fear you may be missing it, looking it from afar and only perceiving the chaotic big picture instead of the beauty that lies under the surface. You won't find beauty hiding away from life between these cold stone walls. - she affirmed, instantly afraid she had gone too far.

Frollo's expression was inscrutable. His granite eyes were looking at her so deeply that she felt she might fall into them, as if they were a bottomless pool of water.

She couldn't tell if he was profoundly mad… or actually considering her words.

\- You're wrong. - he finally stated, in a low voice. But he didn't seem to be mad. He actually seemed eager to explain himself. - I do find beauty here. For, you know… where you see cold stone walls, I see protection. Where you see rigidity, I see structure, and order, and balance. I see harmony. All the lost souls of this world yearn for a place where they can feel safe. I made a vow to defend the innocent, and to make sure that justice was made in this world. And to do that, I need to have control of what's going on, and I need to have people willing to do as I say. I know you think… everyone thinks, that I'm ruthless. But sometimes, someone's got to play the role of the villain in order to get things done. I don't mind if people think badly of me, even when I'm working to their benefit, and they will never know. Because I don't do it for the praise. I do it 'cause it is right. And that certainty, that moral compass… that is beauty to me.

Esmeralda was unexpectedly moved. She thought of Quasimodo. She had quickly judged Frollo for keeping him up at the tower, but maybe the man was honestly just trying to protect him. She then thought of Pat as well. He had told her that Frollo's steadiness had made him feel safe for the first time in his life. Perhaps the man had a point.

\- Maybe... – she whispered, timidly. - Maybe we both are right. It's like tonight's sky, you see? The colorful light of the sunset… and the powerful darkness of the storm. Maybe there is beauty everywhere… and we're all in this world to help each other find it wherever we find it ourselves.

Frollo's face suddenly displayed an ironic, cynical smile.

\- That's easy for you to say.

\- What do you mean? - she asked, confused.

\- I mean it's easy for you to think beauty is everywhere. I bet you've been called beautiful more times than you've been called your own name.

Esmeralda hadn't seen that coming. She didn't know if he meant it as a compliment or an accusation. But she saw past it anyway. She saw the bitterness in his tone, and her heart melted in understanding.

\- Have you? - she then asked, all of a sudden.

\- Have I what? - Frollo replied, puzzled.

\- Have you ever been called beautiful? - she clarified.

Frollo's face paled strongly, a sudden void in his stomach and a knot in his throat. She was mocking him. Of course. How could he have thought otherwise? How could he be such a fool? He didn't know how to answer without making an even bigger fool of himself. He tried to discard the question as if it was stupid nonsense in a desperate attempt to save his pride:

\- Of course not! Why on earth would have I…?

But he was completely frozen mid-sentence when she raised her palm and leaned it on his cheek.

Esmeralda gazed at the stunned man before her. Just in time, another bolt of lighting filled the dark room, illuminating his face with a white light. She watched his hair, carefully combed backwards, but slightly messy on the sides, above his ears, where the chaperon usually rested. She felt the softness of his neatly shaved cheek, not hardened by the sun or the wind like those of the men she knew. His felt like silk under her touch. She saw the wrinkles on his forehead, where his everlasting frown of worry or distrust had made its home. She thought of how exhausting it ought to be, being always in charge of things and then being despised for it. There also were small wrinkles at the edge of his lips from keeping them pressed together, like they were now, in a tense grimace, always ready to defend himself from any external attack.

And then she looked at his eyes. His infinite, profound eyes, that were fixed upon her own, displaying a wide range of emotions; confusion, fear, caution, concern… but under all of it, she saw something else. She saw him, his true essence, desperately yearning to be seen and acknowledged, and above all, to be accepted as he was. And she saw it crystal clear.

\- Because you **_are_** beautiful.

Frollo's breath stopped. His brain stopped. He could have sworn even his heart had stopped.

He knew in his soul that she was telling the truth. He saw it in her eyes, that suddenly became all he could see.

Her green, emerald eyes, so full of light, and compassion, and… _could it be? He didn't dare thinking the word. _

He wanted to skip the small distance between them, and melt into her. He wanted it more than anything he'd ever wanted in his entire life. He just simply couldn't.

But she could.

And she did.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

She was very gentle at first, as if she was afraid she would scare him away, or would get violently pushed back.

Frollo stood there, still completely frozen. He couldn't believe it. Her warm soft lips caressing his own, her hands holding his face between them, her sweet scent filling his nose.

Nothing had prepared him for this. For what it would feel like. Even in his wildest dreams and fantasies, he never would have imagined it.

His heart just broke in release, and with a sharp breath, he melted into her.

His hands searched for her waist, and pulled her closer avidly. She gasped at the unexpected response, but a soft moan on her throat let him know she was pleased. She pulled his face closer, and opened her lips, allowing her tongue to gently touch his.

He hadn't kiss anyone before, but his insecurity was taken over by an ancient knowing, and his body responded on its own. His tongue met hers at the intersection of their lips, and they tasted each other eagerly.

Esmeralda was torn between two equally strong feelings. On one hand, the utter surprise. At herself, at him, at everything. Never in a million years would she have imagined that scene taking place, much less after he had persecuted, captured and detained her. But on the other hand… she felt it just made sense. She didn't know why, but feeling his skin against hers, his hands on her back, his mouth kissing her lips… It just was right. It felt as if they had done this a thousand times before. As if they belonged to each other. As if they were just remembering it now, finally coming home after a long journey through oblivion.

She felt more complete than she ever had.

And then, a loud gasp at the other side of the room broke them apart.

\- I'm so sorry Sir! - Magdalene said, visibly disturbed, and looking the other way. - The door was open and I just thought… - she tried to justify herself, nervously rubbing her hands on her apron.

By the time Esmeralda wanted to react, Frollo had already stood up and he was a few feet away. Wow, he was fast.

\- It's nothing. - he said, with a calm tone that however, didn't completely conceal his embarrassment. - Did you need anything?

\- Mr Flamcourt is here, Sir. He insists on having dinner with you. He says it's urgent that you both discuss some matters.

Frollo let out an irritated sigh.

\- I wasn't expecting him today. Please, ehm… - he hesitated for a second, throwing a fleeting glance at Esmeralda's way. - Place another set of cutlery for Mr Flamcourt at the dinner table.

\- It's okay – Esmeralda quickly replied – I'll leave you to it. I can eat in my room. He can use my spot at the table, Magdalene. - she indicated, and the nervous housekeeper nodded and left as fast as she could.

\- Do you see the harm in the lack of order? - Frollo asked with a crooked smile when they were alone again.

It was the first time she had seen him joke with her, and it gave her a warm feeling, so she accepted her defeat with a big smile:

\- Can't say that I don't…

Frollo seemed suddenly hesitant.

\- Are… are you sure you don't want to join us? You don't have to eat by yourself…

\- I appreciate it. Truly. - she reassured him, before adding – But I've spent the day at the stables and I'd rather take a bath than making acquaintance with a noble man all dressed in horse shit.

Frollo nodded, visibly relieved.

\- Well then… I'll … see you tomorrow. - he said, unsure of how to say goodbye to her.

She decided not to push her luck, so she stood up from the bench as well and walked to the door. But before leaving, she turned around and gave him a warm smile.

\- See you tomorrow. - she said, in a promising tone, and closed the door.


	12. The Right Thing to Do

Frollo couldn't understand a word Mr Flamcourt was saying. He heard the sounds, alright. But they were just that. Sounds. His mind was entirely elsewhere.

At the library, with Esmeralda, to be precise.

In his defense, it had been obvious from the second he entered the dining room that Mr Flamcourt was there for the food and the wine. Apparently, he hadn't had enough the previous time, so he had come to enjoy himself a little more, with a weak excuse of business talk that was clarified in the first five minutes. So Frollo just nodded, while he secretly wished the man would just hurry the hell up and leave him alone with his thoughts.

When the distant sound of the bells announced midnight, Frollo sent an inner blessing to Quasimodo and dismissed his guest unceremoniously. But Mr Flamcourt was full and inebriated and he didn't took offense on it.

_Finally_. He was alone. He went up to his chambers, where the servants had already lit the fireplace so it would be nice and warm by the time he got there.

He dropped into an armchair, suddenly exhausted from the day. The intensity of his feelings, that had been forcefully repressed during dinner, finally caught up with him, making him feel a little light headed.

The vivid images from their encounter by the harpsichord took over his mind, as he tried to recall every small detail, every word she had pronounced, every single gesture of her face. And then… the kiss. Had that really happened? He wondered, still amazed, while absently touching his lips with his fingertips, as if trying to relieve the sensation.

He had suspected that Esmeralda was feeling some sort of curiosity for him, even attraction. But he would have never dared to dream that she would actually act upon those feelings, after everything they had been through. Maybe she had acted impulsively and was now in her chambers, deeply regretting it. Yes, that was probably what had happened, a cruel voice in his head sentenced.

And the mere thought of that possibility felt like a monster eating away his insides.

_Did he regret it?_ He asked himself then, though he knew the answer.

Of course not. He had dreamed about kissing her from the moment he laid eyes on her. But he had always thought of it as primal, vulgar instinct. A physical trap for the senses planted on his insides by the need of preserving the species. He couldn't have imagined the feelings that would come with it. He thought it would be like drinking water when you're thirsty, or eating when you're hungry. The pleasure of relieving a material need, that's all. But instead, he had felt another kind of pleasure; the one that comes from fulfilling a spiritual need. The need to commune with something bigger than yourself, and feel loved by it. It had been a religious experience.

He felt as if God Himself had sent him a message through Esmeralda. And the message was... he was forgiven.

Forgiven for every sin and selfish act he had ever committed.

But he couldn't accept that forgiveness. He didn't feel worthy of it, when he was unable to forgive himself. How could he, when he was still the same man? He knew his own weaknesses. He knew that he didn't have the strength to never commit those sins again.

Esmeralda's kindness had brought him closer to God, to His Light. And that light was now illuminating everything he had been hiding away at the depths of his soul. He didn't want her to see. He didn't want anyone to see.

For then she would realize he wasn't worthy of love, and she would turn away and leave him alone forever.

He knew he wouldn't survive that.

There was only one possibility left. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Esmeralda woke up next morning when the brightest ray of sun shone on her face. After the storm last night, the sky had completely cleared up.

She decided to take that as a positive sign from the Universe. She was feeling optimistic.

Her mind was wonderfully quiet since the night before. Maybe it had surrendered when it realized it couldn't stop her heart. Or maybe it had realized that it didn't need to understand what was going on in order for it to be real.

Whatever it was, Esmeralda was very grateful for the inner truce.

She was so cheerful, she even started unconsciously humming while she washed her face and combed her hair, getting ready for breakfast. She was excited to see Frollo again, and discover what the next chapter of their story would be. Now that she had gotten a glimpse of his true essence, she was eager to uncover more of it. And apparently, he must have been too, for she heard a gentle knock on her door, and when she turned around, he was standing there, waiting for her permission to come in.

\- Good morning! - she greeted him, with a big inviting smile.

Frollo walked in and closed the door behind him. He gave her a quick glance, but looked down to the floor right afterwards. He seemed tense.

\- How was dinner? - she asked, to break the ice. Of course, she wasn't so naive as to think his whole attitude would change overnight.

\- Boring. - he answered honestly.- You didn't miss much.

\- Good. - she said gladly. - Do you have any plans for today? It's gonna be a beautiful day. - she pointed, gesturing towards the open window.

\- It is. - he agreed, before adding - A great day to enjoy the sun outdoors.

Esmeralda looked at him, puzzled. That comment wasn't accidental, she could tell that much. Was he trying to tease her? To rub her imprisonment down her face? Now, why on earth would he do that? Had he bounced off after last night to the other extreme, to despising her again? Her stomach started to stir uncomfortably.

\- Wouldn't you like to take a walk on the sunny streets of the city? - he asked her, looking down the window.

Okay, that would be too cruel even for him. He wasn't mocking her. With a rush of excitement, Esmeralda realized maybe this was a proposition. Was he planning on taking her somewhere?

\- What are you talking about? - she inquired, trying to conceal her excitement.

\- I'm letting you go. - he replied instead, plainly.

Esmeralda felt as if an iced water bucket had been abruptly poured over her head. Her breath was caught in her lungs.

\- What? - she asked, not sure she had understood.

\- You're free to leave. - he repeated, with a soft, emotionless voice. He still hadn't looked at her.

She was frozen, unable to move. Her mind was completely blank, but she could feel her throat tightening and burning up. She felt like she wanted to cry, but wasn't sure of the reason.

\- Why? - she asked hoarsely, biting on her lower lip, trying as hard as she could to maintain her composure.

\- It's the right thing to do. - he simply stated.

_The right thing to do. The right thing to do._ His words reverberated inside her ears.

_Bullshit._

_What the hell did that mean? The right thing to do?_

Esmeralda was so confused and hurt. Of all the reactions she could have anticipated from him, this one she had never seen coming. She was expecting him to be cautious, distrustful, or in her most optimistic moments, excited to be around her again. But he was just tossing her aside, like he suddenly had lost all interest. Was that what had happened? Had she been some sort of conquest, of trophy that he had already scored and now held no value to him anymore? Had everything been a part of his twisted cat and mouse, chase and run, hunting game?

Her eyes started tearing up, and she could feel her cheeks burning with rage and humiliation.

If Frollo had looked at her at that moment, things might have gone a different way. Or maybe he would have seen that they were not so different after all.

But he was too focused on keeping his eyes on the window, for he knew he wouldn't be able to stand what he though he would find in her face; relief, and joy for being able to leave.

His heart wasn't ready to be broken by that. So he didn't look. So he didn't see.

He didn't see Esmeralda's fists shaking, because she felt so stupid and small and powerless, that she was suddenly terrified.

He didn't see her turning around to hide her face when she was finally unable to fight back the tears anymore. She had never been rejected before, not once in her life and much less by a man. They usually fought for her attention. Everyone did, actually. Except for him. Why would it have to be **_his_ **attention the only one she had truly ever needed?

He didn't see her scorching eyes staring at the back of his neck when she realized he had treated her like a whore, and was now dismissing her without contemplation after getting what he wanted from her.

He didn't see any of that.

He only heard her sudden ice-cold voice, answering with a deadly calm tone:

\- Great. When can I go?

Frollo closed his eyes, as if he had just been sentenced to death. He inhaled deeply, trying to gather the strength to answer, and forget the fact that she hadn't even complained a little._ Of course she hadn't_, he scolded himself. _What did you expect? She never wanted this. She was only here because you forced her to make an impossible choice. Her true choice would always be freedom, with the people she actually cared about. You truly thought she would voluntarily choose to stay with you? You poor idiot._

\- You can gather your things and leave now. - he finally stated.- However… - he paused.

Esmeralda's heart stopped in expectation. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he would ask her to stay. Maybe he just wanted to release her from the threat over her people, to show her he truly cared about her.

\- What? - she rushed him, in an almost inaudible voice.

\- You must report once a day. - he stated in a cold, professional tone. - Our deal was based on your statement that a gypsy's word could be trusted. If you continue to prove so, your people will still be allowed to live in the city, as long as they don't cause any disturbance. But if you break your word, you'll prove I was right about gypsies and you all will be prosecuted.

Esmeralda didn't know how to react. She was standing there, mouth open in disbelief. What kind of game was this? Had they gone back to the blackmailing stage?

Maybe... it was just his convoluted way to make sure he would still be seeing her. That softened her heart a little. Perhaps not everything was lost.

\- So I'll have to come here once a day to let you know I'm still holding up to my word, is that it? - she asked, with a hint of hope.

But Frollo's hope was long gone. He had fallen back into the pit of darkness he had inhabited his entire life, and now the brief moment of light they had shared seemed nothing but a naive dream. His only option was to leave it behind and to never see her again. He would only allow himself the weakness of knowing she was safe; that was his only concession to his hurting heart, that was still fighting so hard not to break in her presence.

\- No. Not here. - he clarified harshly. - You'll report to Quasimodo, at the cathedral. I'm a busy man, and I don't have time for that. Quasimodo on the other hand, will be delighted to receive your visits. But make no mistake; I'll ensure that he notifies me immediately if you fail to show up any day.

Esmeralda's last hope shattered into a million pieces. He didn't even want to see her again. And still, he had managed to keep her chained under his control and threats. He didn't care about her at all. He just cared about himself, and his reputation. _That selfish, hypocrite son of a…_

But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction to show disappointment. She would walk out the door and never look back. Starting right now.

Her rigid posture suddenly unfroze. She walked directly to the bed, where she took her purple blanket and pulled it from in between the sheets.

He could see her from the corner of his eye, furiously gathering the few belongings that laid on the table and the armchair by the fireplace. A couple dresses, her cape, a wooden hair brush and some hair pins and earrings. She was moving so fast, as if the floor suddenly burned under her feet.

He felt an impulsive urge to say something, anything, to stop her. To beg her. To gather her into his arms and resume last night's kiss. But he knew this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. His body was petrified while his soul screamed at the top of its lungs.

But before he could decide whether or not to listen to it, Esmeralda was finished gathering her stuff, and with her hands and arms full, she walked towards the door. She stopped at the threshold, with her back turned at him.

Frollo gathered the courage to look up and stare at the back of her head. _Turn around. Please, turn around._

\- Goodbye then. I'll get Djali on my way out. - she said, without turning around. And with a final exhale, she disappeared into the hallway.

It was only then that Frollo's heart finally broke.

* * *

**A/N: You wouldn't believe it was gonna be so easy, right? ;) **


	13. Without You

\- Esmeralda! - Clopin screamed, instantly dropping his puppets and gracefully jumping out of his colorful puppeteer caravan.

She gave him a weak smile as he ran towards her and hugged her so tight he lifted her feet off the ground.

\- What are you doing here? - he asked, immediately concerned and grabbing her arm to pull her into the nearest dark alley.

\- Relax, it's okay. - Esmeralda reassured him, gently removing his hand from her arm. - Frollo let me go.

\- He did? - Clopin said in utter disbelief.

\- Yes. It's a long story… - she confirmed vaguely. - I just… it's so good to see you again. - she concluded, unexpectedly hugging the man again.

Clopin frowned over her shoulder, getting worried at her unusual display of affection.

\- Are you okay? - he asked, softly pushing her away to be able to look her in the eye. - Did that bastard hurt you?

_Ha. You have no idea. _

\- I'm alright. - she answered, shaking her head. - I'm just tired. I wanna go home. - her voice trembled while pronouncing those words, for only when they left her lips she realized that the home she was longing for wasn't the Court of Miracles.

But that's where Clopin took her, of course. He explained that ever since Frollo's ambush, they had been looking for a different place to stay, but they had concluded that any other spot in the city would leave them much more exposed than the catacombs. However, they had explored the catacombs further, and they had found an unknown tunnel that lead to a hidden exit on the north-east side of the city. So they had moved the camp closer to the tunnel entrance, and they kept a shift system to always have someone guarding the old main entrance, so if Frollo's soldiers ever returned, they could warn them with enough time to escape through the newfound tunnel.

Esmeralda heard all of this and nodded absently. She didn't care about the new security system, for she knew that Frollo wouldn't be coming for them anytime soon. In fact, he was probably planning on staying as far away as possible from the catacombs, the gypsies, and anything remotely connected to her.

When they got to the main camp underground, everyone raced to greet them, to welcome her back and bomb her with a ton of questions. She gave the same answers over and over again, before throwing Clopin a meaningful look. He quickly dismissed the multitude, claiming she needed to get some rest after everything she had been through.

He escorted her to his own tent, and offered his hay mattress so she could lay down until they fixed her a tent of her own. Esmeralda sat down, feeling the cold humid floor beneath the thin layer of hay. She sighed, reminiscing about her bed at the palace. Clopin misunderstood her sigh as a sign of relief.

\- You're home now, little sister. You're safe. He won't find you here. - he assured her with a warm smile.

Esmeralda did her best to smile back, but the man could see the pain behind her eyes. He kneeled before her, placing a gentle hand on her forearm.

\- Whatever happened back there… You can tell me about it, you know. - he whispered, so no one around could eavesdrop into their conversation.

She considered it for a second. She imagined herself trying to find the words to explain to her adoptive brother what had actually happened between her and Frollo, the man that had almost executed all of them just a couple weeks ago. There was no way Clopin would ever understand. She herself couldn't understand. He would just think she had lost her mind due to the imprisonment, or worse, he would judge her as a traitor.

No. This would remain her secret, her embarrassing unforgivable secret, forever. She would never bring it up, and the sooner she started to leave it behind, the better.

\- Nothing happened. You know Frollo. He's an asshole. - _that part was honest._ \- But he knows the limit, he wouldn't risk his reputation for me. So when he saw I wouldn't give into his desires, he let me go. -_ Okay, that part was a blatant lie. It had actually been him who rejected you, remember?_

Clopin knew there had to be more to the story. It simply made no sense. But he figured she wasn't ready to talk about it yet, so he nodded, and with a swift kiss to her forehead, he left her to rest.

She curled up in the floor, with Djali next to her. She was uncomfortable, cold, and the sound of so many voices just a piece of cloth away made it impossible to relax. She wondered how she could have slept like that her entire life. She felt ungrateful. "I should be feeling happy to be here, to be with them again" she repeated herself. But she wasn't happy, at all. Even if only a couple weeks had passed, she felt as if she was returning to a past life, something familiar but where she no longer belonged. But Frollo had made it clear that she didn't belong at the Palace either. So maybe she didn't belong anywhere anymore. She felt lost, and for the first time since he had walked into her chamber that morning, she gave herself permission to fully cry.

* * *

Claude Frollo couldn't move. He was still standing at the exact spot she had left him, as if he had been nailed to the floor. He felt as if whatever step he could take now would be in the wrong direction.

He also had this weird feeling, as if somehow standing still could preserve the atmosphere of the room, preserve her essence that still lingered there, with her scent floating in the air. He didn't even dare to breathe deeply, though maybe that had more to do with the sharp pain he was feeling in his chest, between his lungs.

He had never felt such pain. Not even when his parents had died. For then he was a young lad and the feelings of concern, fear and responsibility took over the grief.

But now there was no fear, or concern. No responsibilities to hide into. Not even anger, for he couldn't be angry when he had been the one to make the choice.

And that left him with just pain. Sinking, relentless pain coming from the million pieces his heart had turned into once she closed the door behind her.

She was gone. She was really gone. _Oh God, what had he done._

His knees started trembling. He hated himself for his weakness. He had made his choice, and he was sure it was the right one. Going down the path of uncertainty and vulnerability was just not an option for a man like himself. That would have swallowed him alive and spat him back destroyed. Her mere presence summoned such powerful forces inside of him that he knew he didn't stand a chance against them. The last time he had let himself get carried away by such forces, it had almost brought them all to perdition.

Mercifully, God had sent him that warning, foretelling dream, in an attempt to rescue him and everyone else from himself. But what had he done right afterwards? He had brought the cause of his temptation home, and he had dared to dream of having a life by her side. Only to unleash all those powerful, dangerous energies again.

He had to put an end to it, once and for all. And that's why he had made the choice of letting her go. It was the best for everyone.

But then… _why did it hurt so much?_

He resolved he'd turn to prayer. That's what had helped him get through the worst times of his life. Since he would be visiting the cathedral every day to check up with Quasimodo, he figured he would ask the archdeacon for his help, maybe he had some religious advice to spare.

God had placed this test on his path, and He had asked him to do the right thing. So the least He owed him was a little support and reassurance.

Frollo inhaled slowly. He took a last glance around the room. He would have everything cleaned up thoroughly, to eliminate any trace of her existence there. And then, he would start over, a new chapter of his life, free from her consuming influence.

_Yes. That's what he would do._

This resolution finally gave him the strength to move again. He walked decidedly to the door, and with a final look at the chamber, he too left it behind.


	14. Quasimodo

Getting to see Quasimodo again was one of the highlights of her release.

The first day they reunited, the young man could hardly contain his enthusiasm. He hugged her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. But it was comforting, and a genuine smile showed up in Esmeralda's face.

\- My dear friend – she said, pulling away so she could see his face – How have you been?

\- You know, same as always – he answered lightly. - But how are you? Are you alright?

\- I'm good. - she lied, though being back at Quasimodo's place with him made it less of a lie.

\- Come! - he invited her in, walking towards the main table – Are you hungry? Thirsty?- he asked, eager to make her comfortable. He wasn't used to having any guests in his home.

Esmeralda laughed at his kind disposition.

\- I'm fine, really, thank you. - she reassured him, and they both smiled with complicity.

So they sat down at the outside corridor, with their backs to the stone wall of the cathedral, that was warmed by the morning sun. The air was cool up there, but there was no wind so they closed their eyes and soaked in the sunlight. Esmeralda breathed in the silence and peace of the place. She felt like she could relax from the first time since she had left the Palace. And it was nice that Quasimodo wasn't bombarding her with questions like everyone else had done at the Court of Miracles. Maybe it was because he was used to the silence, and comfortable with it. Or maybe his deep sensitivity allowed him to understand that she might still be adjusting. Anyhow, it was really nice to be able to just… be there, with him.

\- I could get used to this. - she confessed, still with her eyes closed and her head leaning into the wall behind.

\- You know you can come here anytime you want. - he replied excited.

\- At least once a day. - she pointed out, and though she meant it to sound promising, she wasn't able to prevent some bitterness to slip into her tone. She heard Quasimodo moving by her side, turning towards her. She opened her eyes, to find his face tainted with concern.

\- I thought you would be happy about that. - he said carefully, though Esmeralda could hear the concealed hurt in his words.

\- I am. - she assured him, placing her hand over his. - Of course I'm happy I'll get to see you everyday. I just wish it were under different circumstances... I don't like being told what to do. - she explained.

Quasimodo looked puzzled.

\- Wasn't it a mutual agreement? - he asked, tilting his head.

Esmeralda narrowed her eyes, not sure what to say next. She didn't know what Frollo might have told him, and she didn't want to reveal any unnecessary details.

\- What exactly did he tell you? - she inquired finally.

\- He came here yesterday at dawn. I was very surprised to see him so soon, so I got worried. But he just said that you both had decided to change the terms of your agreement, and that from now on, you would be coming here once a day so I could see you were … - he hesitated.

\- I was _what_?

\- Trustworthy. - he answered looking down in embarrassment, before quickly adding – Not that I don't trust you!

\- I know, it's okay. - she promptly reassured him. - You see, that's what I meant before. I don't want our moments together to be tainted by some kind of twisted test Frollo has placed over me.

\- I see...- Quasimodo replied, thoughtful. - I'd just assumed you had offered to do that, the same way you offered to stay at the palace as proof of your honest intention.

\- **_What!?_** \- Esmeralda snapped, her eyes wide open. Quasimodo was startled and looked at her in confusion.

\- What? - he asked, lost.

But Esmeralda was at a loss of words. How could have Frollo told him that she had offered to stay at the palace? But again, what did she expect? That way of twisting reality's narrative to his own benefice was his signature mark. This way, he wouldn't look like the plotting bastard he was, but instead, he would appear to be a merciful understanding man, willing to accept her offer in good faith. Her previous anger towards the judge was instantly doubled.

She opened her mouth to set the story straight, but something else stopped her. Her pride. In Frollo's version, she had been the one in control of her actions and destiny. She was the brave heroine that had voluntarily offered to trade herself for the safety of her people. And she had been part of the agreement to leave the palace, instead of the stupid one that still found herself secretly wishing she was still there. But most of all, in Frollo's version she wasn't the crazy person that would, and indeed had, developed feelings over her jailor.

She realized she liked that version better. She actually hoped things had gone that way, instead of what truly happened. So she closed her mouth, and smiled at Quasimodo, who was still waiting for an answer.

\- Nothing. I misheard what you said. - she clarified. But she could see the man wasn't convinced by her sudden change of attitude. He frowned, and she could tell he was about to ask her further, so she quickly changed the subject. - But since we're here, why don't we make the most out of it? - she proposed, with an excited tone. It worked.

\- What would you like to do? - Quasimodo asked, forgetting about the rest.

\- I don't know… there are so many things you're good at! Maybe you could teach me some of it. Just not the climbing down the cathedral walls, please.

They both laughed, and just like that, Esmeralda started feeling a little more optimistic about her future.

* * *

A week had gone by, though Esmeralda felt as if it had been much longer.

She had adjusted quickly to her new routine. She would visit Quasimodo in the morning, after he was done playing the bells that called out everyone to prayer. She would stay at the cathedral with him for a couple hours, and leave well before lunch, in case Frollo showed up.

What she didn't knew was that Quasimodo had mentioned their habit to him, so Frollo was very careful as to not show up before it was well past noon.

She would then return to the Court of Miracles, where she ate with everyone and heard their stories from the morning. Life for the gypsies had improved greatly since Frollo had let them go. Of course, they had soldiers breathing down their necks on every corner, but at least they didn't have to escape running at the mere sound of horse hooves. The soldiers would watch them from a safe distance, ready to intervene the moment things seemed to be heating up, or getting too out of control.

So they pretty much ignored them and kept their performances going; dancing, playing music or puppeteering. The only completely forbidden activities were those related to magic arts, such as palm reading or divination. Frollo willing to tolerate their presence at his city was one thing, but him allowing such pagan customs to be displayed freely on its streets was a very different one.

However, she wasn't ready to go back into the streets yet. She was already walking the city as fast as she could with a lump on her throat, and jumping at the sound of coming horses or carriages, praying that she wouldn't run into Frollo. So she couldn't imagine herself dancing for coins again like she used to do before. She felt guilty about this, as if she were somehow living at the expense of her people's hard work, but Clopin had assured her over and over again that it was okay and that she should take all the time she needed. He was happy to provide for her, happy to have her home again.

So, in the evenings she would take Djali out for a walk outside, using the newfound tunnel that led to the city's edge, where the forest began. She would walk among the trees and try to clear her mind of any thoughts, past, present or future. But also, it was in those moments of solitude that she allowed herself to drop the act and feel as sad as she was actually feeling. As much as she hated herself for it.

But not everything was bad. Quasimodo had offered her reading lessons, and though he wasn't an excellent reader himself, he could understand written words and recite simple poems or texts. Which was fascinating to Esmeralda, who had always wished she could read as well. So she was focusing on that, and any time she started feeling down, she would resume practicing the alphabet, and it made her feel like she was exploring a new exciting world that was opening for her. It was the best part of her day.

One morning, Quasimodo surprised her with a gift. He had somehow acquired some parchments and a piece of charcoal, and he offered to teach her how to write the letters.

Esmeralda was excited as a little girl. She quickly got to it, frustrating over her lack of precision with her fingers. Quasimodo laughed sympathetically.

\- Don't worry, it's hard the first time. You'll get there. - he encouraged her.

But Esmeralda was stubborn as they come.

\- Just leave me to it! - she asked impatiently, while chewing on her lip for concentration.

So Quasimodo decided to give her some space, and sat down at the opposite side of the table, where he started carving a piece of wood for his collection. He got so focused into his task that he didn't realize the passing of time. And neither did she.

That was, of course, until they heard the door opening, just down the ladder.

-_ Esmeralda!_ \- Quasimodo whispered, moving his arm in an alarming gesture to catch her attention.

She raised her gaze from the parchment, her brow a little sweaty from the persistent effort, and her eyes looking tired and disoriented.

\- What is it? - she asked, in a regular voice, making Quasimodo shake his head and cover his lips with a finger.

\- _Fro-llo_ – he spelled without making a sound, signaling towards the ladder, where the wood creaking sounds announced the climbing visitor.

Esmeralda's stomach flipped upside down. She jumped from the chair, so abruptly that it fell down loudly.

\- Damn it! - she cursed through her teeth, quickly scanning the room for a place to hide.

But it was too late. He was there and he had seen her.


	15. The Wound

Frollo stood there, paralyzed. He watched the scene before his eyes. The chair knocked over in the floor, Esmeralda flinching with her back to him and Quasimodo standing as well, looking at both of them with a fake anxious smile.

\- Hi...hi, master! - he said, in an apparently light but quivering tone.- You're here early!

Frollo was shaken from his stupor, and clearing his throat he pointed out.

\- Actually, I am not. - his voice sounded irritated. And he was. He had been very careful as to delay their lunches as much as possible, so the gypsy would have a wider margin to leave before he arrived. Even when that caused him to rearrange some of his duties. But now the careless woman had overstretched her stay and caused this uncomfortable situation. _Why couldn't anyone understand the importance of rules and order?_

\- I was just leaving. - Esmeralda finally said, walking towards the table to gather her cape without looking at him.

_Was that really all she had to say?_ he wondered, feeling his blood starting to bubble up in annoyance. _After everything that had happened, were they back to being strangers who despised each other? Alright then. If this was her game, he'd show her he knew how to play too. _

So he walked to the table as well, positioning right next to her pretending she wasn't there. He placed the food basket on the surface and casually asked Quasimodo:

\- How are you doing today?

\- I'm … I'm well, thank you. - the young man answered carefully, still looking alternately at both of them.

Frollo heard Esmeralda snort by his side, and fought to contain a smug grin. He had been weak and vulnerable around her, but that was over for good. If she wanted to show him that she didn't care, he would prove her that she wasn't as cold as she thought. She fed on attention, so he would ignore her. _That would serve her well._

His thoughts were interrupted when she pulled from her cape over the table, dragging along Quasimodo's tools to the floor.

\- Oh, Quasi, I'm so sorry! - she said, squatting on the floor and cursing internally for causing a scene instead of the prideful decided exit she had envisioned.

\- Don't worry, I will clean it up. You can go. - Quasimodo replied promptly, moving around the table and wishing the tense encounter would end as soon as possible.

Frollo bent down as well, to pick up the closest piece of wood. But his hand and Esmeralda's accidentally crossed paths, and she retired it immediately as if she had been burnt.

\- I can do it alone, thank you. - she spat, bitterly, with an abrupt movement. But the sudden change of position made her lose her balance, and when she moved her foot to avoid falling, she placed it over a sharp curved carving knife that sunk into her flesh, under her ankle.

\- Careful! - Quasimodo shouted, but it was too late.

Esmeralda let out a loud howl, as the sudden pain made her definitely lose her balance. Frollo reacted quickly and grabbed her before she hit the ground. Her face was contorted in a silent grimace, her eyes tearing up alarmingly.

\- Oh my God! What do we do? - Quasimodo asked nervously, with his hands shaking.

Frollo helped her move towards the bench and carefully placed her there. She was grasping onto his shoulder, with her fingers livid with pain.

\- Let me take a look. - he said in a low, calmed voice. She nodded, taking in fast, shallow breaths.

Frollo kneeled beside her, and with the utmost delicacy, he lifted her foot and placed it over his knee, to get a better view of the wound. The knife was still inside her flesh.

\- I'll have to remove it. - he explained, waiting for her permission.

\- Shouldn't we call a doctor? - Quasimodo asked again, concerned.

\- There's no need. I have everything I need in my bag. Please bring it to me.

The lad obeyed quickly. He laid the dark velvet bag at Frollo's feet.

\- Now open it, and take some bandages and the sewing kit.

\- Sewing? - Esmeralda repeated hoarsely, her face paling even more.

\- You don't want to bleed out, do you? - Frollo simply asked.

Quasimodo sat beside him on the floor and followed his instructions, leaving the bandages and sewing kit on display at the bench so he could grab them when he needed to.

\- Alright. I'm going to pull it out now. - Frollo announced. He looked up at Esmeralda again, who was still holding onto his robes. - It's going to hurt. - he warned her. She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and nodded.

Frollo was swift and efficient, and took the knife out with one single fluid movement. His hands flew to the bandages, and he pressed them against the wound, though it had already splattered his clothes and the floor around with blood.

Esmeralda gasped loudly, and he felt her fingernails digging into his skin through his robes.

\- It's out. - he informed, and he signaled Quasimodo to maintain pressure on the wound while he took the sewing kit and threaded the needle. But before stitching the flesh, he had a sudden idea.

\- You – he told Esmeralda – grab the food basked and take out the bottle of wine.

She obeyed, and handled him the bottle. She then had a flashback to when Phoebus had been shot with an arrow, and she had been the one cleaning the wound and sewing it. How things had changed in such a short time. When had that happened? Three weeks ago, maybe?

Her pondering came to a sudden end when she felt the sharp burning of the alcohol over her open flesh. She cursed loudly, lifting her leg to take her foot away from the judge.

\- I need you to hold still.- he scolded her, irritated.

\- Well, why don't _you_ try holding still while _I_ stab you? - she replied harshly.

But Frollo didn't mind her outburst. Instead, he threw a meaningful look at Quasimodo, pointing at her with his head.

\- Please. - he asked, and Quasimodo sat at the bench by Esmeralda's side and grabbed her shoulders so she wouldn't move.

Frollo carefully took her foot again, and proceeded to stitch the wound, sewing the flesh back together. It was soothing for him, doing that. He felt so in control, whenever he was able to tend to a wound and fix it, restoring it to its original state with his bare hands. It was a warm, reassuring feeling, knowing he was able to do that. _If only his heart could be sewn back together as easily. _

Of course, it wasn't as pleasant for the wounded person, in this case Esmeralda, who kept cursing between her gritted teeth, and letting out small cries of pain.

By the time Frollo was done, her hair was damp with sweat, and her eyes reddened with tears.

Quasimodo made sure she wouldn't move, and ran to get her some water, his own eyes wet with empathy.

Frollo covered her foot with linen bandages, and placed it back on the floor slowly. She attempted to put some weight on it, only to scream and lift it again quickly.

\- You shouldn't do that. - Frollo pointed out, while getting up from the floor, and rubbing his bloody hands on his robe. Esmeralda's hand fell from his shoulder as he rose, lightly sliding down his chest before she moved it away. Though he knew it had been involuntary, the mere touch of her skin over his clothes sent flames throughout his whole body. He cleared his throat and focused on gathering his things into the bag, while he explained- It's not very deep but it may have touched your tendons. You'll need to rest and not bear any weight on it for a couple of days.

\- So… no walking? - she asked, taking the glass that Quasimodo was offering her, and drinking a small sip of water.

\- No. - Frollo answered, appearing suddenly lost in his thoughts.- You should stay here. - he finally resolved.

\- No. - Esmeralda replied roundly. She didn't want to be at his disposition again, she feared he would use this as an excuse to control her even further. - I want to go home.

\- It's no bother at all! - Quasimodo clarified, thinking she was trying to be polite.

\- I'll rest better at home. Clopin will take care of me. - she insisted.

Frollo frowned, but at this point he knew better than to contradict her. He knew it would only lead to more resistance from her side. So he agreed to her plead.

\- Alright then. Quasimodo and I will help you down the stairs. There you can take my carriage. I'll order the driver to take you to the Court of Miracles, and wait there until someone picks you up.

Esmeralda was so shocked at Frollo's will to help, that she didn't complain, even if she didn't like the idea of bringing his carriage to her home entrance. She just nodded, before asking:

\- When will I have to come back? How do you know I won't use this opportunity to run away? - she asked in a bitter, mocking tone.

\- I can't imagine you doing much running anytime soon. - Frollo pointed out with a crooked smile.

Quasimodo chuckled involuntarily, though he could feel the tension building up again between the two of them.

\- This is what we'll do. - Frollo stated resolutely.- I have to leave the city for a couple days, for some business I need to attend. I've been postponing it due to… recent events. - he cleared his throat, and continued. - I will seize this opportunity to take my leave while you're on bed rest. So you won't have to come here tomorrow, or the day after that. You'll come back on Saturday, when you should be able to walk again. However, I recommend you bring someone with you, just in case you need help.

\- So two days of freedom? That's what a knife to the foot will get you around here? - she asked, ironically. But the look on her face was not bellicose, but grateful.

\- Well, if you decided to run away, two days won't get you far enough to hide from my soldiers anyway. - Frollo answered menacingly.

Esmeralda exhaled, shaking her head in frustration.

\- Alright. So I'll see you both on Saturday. - she promised, with a sigh of surrender.


	16. The Visitor

The change of scenery had given Claude Frollo a new refreshed perspective. He noticed this when he finally found himself alone, riding his horse along the rural trail that connected the property he was leaving with the main cobble-stoned road to Paris. It was Saturday morning, so even if he kept a slow pace, he still had enough day ahead to make it back home in time to attend to his business.

He had spent the last 24 hours at the Count's hunting palace, a small but elegant construction overlooking a lake and a pine forest where the count usually resided during that time of the year. He had summoned the judge there to settle the matter of some land he wanted to take from peasants to expand his hunting territories.

Frollo wasn't fond of the Count himself, though he enjoyed the chance to get some fresh air outside the city. However, he hadn't been able to enjoy it as much as he wished, for the Count had insisted on hosting a feast in his honor, and then the social gathering had turned into a party where the wine and cognac ran free.

But now, he was at last free from social impositions and could enjoy the silence from the countryside, as his horse trotted calmly down the path. It was warm enough for a winter morning and he appreciated the soft sunlight on his skin. Maybe it was the peaceful environment, but he was feeling quite peaceful himself. He had been so immersed in the confusing unfolding of events lately that he had lost touch with his usual leisurely disposition. He was an introspective man, who greatly valued his time alone. He had been like that for the past twenty years, since he acquired his position as the Minister of Justice in Paris. He devoted his free time to studying on his various interests, and he took pride on being one of the most cultivated man in France. He was efficient and unhesitating in his duties as a judge, and he always stood away from vulgar licentious habits, unlike the commoners. He was a strict man, and the strictest with himself to begin with.

_Yes. That's who he was. _

During the past few weeks he had forgotten that, feeling as if he was losing himself in that burning madness, that compelling magnetism he had felt towards the gypsy dancer. After all, he thought to himself, God had made him a fallible man. So it was only natural that, at least once in his life, he had succumbed to those earthly desires. But what matters is that he had regained control of his acts now, and vanished temptation from his home. No one had been significantly harmed in the process, which meant that there were no consequences to worry about any further. He could resume his life and leave behind this particular episode for good. He had passed God's test, _admittedly not without some struggle_, but passed nevertheless.

And now everything would be back under control.

Frollo breathed relieved, while absently petting his horse's neck and mane.

He couldn't begin to suspect what was coming for him.

* * *

It was well after sundown and Frollo was still inside the courtroom, listening to neighborly complaints. He usually held a short daily audience to solve those kind of matters that, truth be told, bored the hell out of him. Having to listen to those illiterates argue about cattle, crops or family quarrels was for certain the worst part of his job. But, since he had been away since Thursday afternoon, he was now facing three days worth of annoying commoners waiting on him to settle their situations.

He was tired from the journey, and quite hungry. But most of all, he was annoyed when he realized he wouldn't have time to visit Quasimodo in time for dinner. So he would have to wait until next morning to find out if Esmeralda had fulfilled her promise. Though he was pretty sure that she wasn't planning on escaping town and breaking her word to him, it nevertheless made him anxious to think about those extra hours of hypothetical advantage that she would get if she decided to do it.

However, he considered, while two men in front of him argued about a stolen duck, if she were to escape, she wouldn't do it by herself, leaving her people behind to suffer the consequences he had promised her. So, if someone was escaping, it would have to be all of them. And a whole crew of gypsies, with their wagons and animals, wouldn't get very far during night hours.

That thought comforted him, and allowed him to finally focus his attention on the dull disputes brought to his courtroom.

* * *

When he was finally done, he asked the housekeeper to fetch him something to eat and bring it to his chambers, where he prepared himself a bath to clean up and relax after the exhausting day.

The warm water relaxed his muscles, contracted from the long horse ride. He decided to go to bed early, so he could get up early as well the next day, and visit Quasimodo for breakfast before Sunday mass. That way, if any unpleasant surprises were waiting for him, he would have a faster reaction, and he would be able to send some troops after the escaping gypsies.

Everything was under control, he reassured himself again, before eating the hot meal Magdalene had brought him, and changing into his night clothes. The comfort of his own bed, fluffier that the one he had slept on at the Counts palace, was all it took to plunge him into a deep sleep.

An insistent knock on the door woke him up, in what felt like seconds later. He opened his eyes, confused. Was it morning already? But looking at the window he saw that there was no trace of sunlight behind the curtain. Furthermore, the fireplace in his chamber was still burning strong, as he had left it before getting into bed. So he couldn't have slept for long.

The knock on his door repeated. He sat at the edge of the bed, his body still kind of numb.

\- Come in. - he granted.

Magdalene's face showed up through a small opening. She seemed concerned and embarrassed.

\- I'm so sorry to disturb your rest, Sir.

\- What is it? - he asked, feeling his mind clearing quickly. Never before had a servant interrupted his night sleep, so it had to be serious.

\- There's someone at the door demanding to see you.

\- What? Who? - he hissed in disbelief. If it was that fool Flamcourt again he would make sure to teach him a well-deserved lesson.

\- It's… a … gypsy, Sir. - Magdalene pronounced hesitantly, afraid of her master's reaction. Frollo's face went livid. He jumped out of the bed so abruptly, it made her flinch involuntarily._ Esmeralda? What was she doing there?_ His heart went ahead of his mind, and for a second he found himself wildly dreaming that she had come back to the palace to ask for his hospitality again. But his mind quickly caught up with his traitorous heart, discarding the fantasy right before Magdalene added: - I tried to send him off, but he insisted so much that I should wake you, he wouldn't leave.

_He?_ Frollo was puzzled now. Who could that gypsy man be and what the hell did he wanted with him at that time of night? Though the anger started boiling in his veins at this outrageous disrespect, the intrigue he felt was greater.

\- I'll be right down. - he announced, and Magdalene vanished from the door as he walked to his robes.

When he opened the main door into the dark square, he saw no one there. The anger and confusion he was feeling multiplied. Was this some kind of joke? Or worse… some kind of distraction, in order to make sure he was at the palace and not chasing after them while they fled? Frollo's nervousness increased. Perhaps he should have visited Quasimodo today instead of waiting, after all.

\- Finally! - a voice broke the night silence, emerging from the shadows. - I thought you'd never come! - he said, exasperated.

\- Who's there? - Frollo asked, suddenly alert. What if it was an ambush, an attack? He was there alone, with no guards or soldiers, or even his own sword at hand. _What a fool_, he scolded himself, while unconsciously taking a few steps back towards the door, to protect himself from any unseen attackers.

\- And now you're leaving again? - the voiced asked when he moved. - I knew it was pointless!

The silhouette came nearer, and Frollo could finally discern his features. He knew the man, he had seen him before in the streets, and leading the Tupsy Turvy festival. Apparently, he was the gypsy leader. _What was his name again?_

\- What do you want? - Frollo asked cautious but harshly. - Don't you know better than to disturb people in the middle of the night?

\- Quasimodo sent me to find you here. Believe me, I'd rather be anywhere else but at this damned door again. - Clopin spat bitterly.

\- Quasimodo? - Frollo repeated, puzzled. - Where is he? Is he okay?

\- He's fine. He's not the one that needs you. It's Esmeralda.

Frollo felt his blood suddenly froze inside his veins. An unexpected surge of terror took over his entire body before he could even think about why. He felt dizzy and faint-hearted, so he put his palm to the wall to maintain balance.

\- Let me get my horse. - he said hoarsely.

\- Don't you know how to walk? - Clopin asked irritated.

\- You want me to walk the streets with you in complete darkness? - Frollo replied, suddenly suspicious again. What if it was a trap after all? What if they were trying to lure him out of the palace to attack him where no one could see?

\- I know you're not used to, Your Honor, but walking is actually a great way of transportation. - Clopin mocked him with a condescending tone.

\- Fine. - Frollo agreed, reluctantly. - At least let me gather my guards then.

\- We don't have time for that! - Clopin bursted suddenly, and all at once his previous mask fell down and a true expression of concern and impatience took over his face.

Frollo felt the stomach churning return.

\- Tell me what's wrong. - he demanded, in a commanding ice cold tone.

Clopin stared deeply into his eyes, and Frollo could see the honesty in his gaze.

\- She's sick. She's really sick.


	17. The Prayer

\- Over here! - Quasimodo exclaimed, hurrying them along.

Frollo rushed after him, panting. He was short of breath from the fast pace he had been forced to adopt to not lose Clopin in the darkness, for the gypsy couldn't care less about leaving him behind. But that wasn't the only reason he was having trouble breathing. Ever since he had been informed of Esmeralda's situation, he felt as if a heavy burden had been placed right over his chest, and the harder he tried not to picture the worst case scenario, the heavier it got.

He finally arrived at Quasimodo's bed edge, where Esmeralda was laying down, apparently unconscious.

\- What happened? - he demanded, looking alternately at his adoptive son and the gypsy man, who still looked irritated by his presence there.

\- They got here right after midnight. - Quasimodo explain, rubbing his hands against each other nervously. - When I saw her I immediately knew we would need you.

Frollo approached her sleeping figure carefully. He leaned over her and placed his hand over her forehead to check her temperature. She was burning up. Her lips appeared dry and chapped by the fever and dehydration.

\- You should have brought her sooner. - he scolded Clopin in a low, menacing voice.

\- Sooner? - Clopin replied, annoyed. - I shouldn't have brought her at all! She should be sleeping in her own bed instead of walking the streets during this freezing night!

But Frollo wasn't listening. He was lifting the sheet to inspect her wounded foot, and let out an angry gasp.

\- Where are the bandages? - he demanded, livid with rage.

\- They got wet. They were useless so I removed them. - Clopin explained simply.

\- You idiot! - Frollo spat the words. - The wound was supposed to be covered! Look at what you've done! - he said, pointing to Esmeralda's ankle.

It was alarmingly swollen, with a dark purple surrounding the wound, and greenish white liquid pouring out of it.

\- It's infected. - Frollo informed. - That's what's causing the fever. It wouldn't be if you hadn't undressed the wound. - he accused.

Clopin jumped towards him, his fists clenching.

\- You hypocrite bastard! - he insulted the judge, who quickly stood up in defiance, his intimidating figure much taller than the gypsy's. - She wouldn't be this bad if she hadn't had to walk here, stepping on that damn wound! But she was so afraid of what you would do if she didn't show up today that she forced me to come with her and didn't let me put her to bed! Hell, she wouldn't even had been hurt in the first place if she hadn't been here because of your prison rules! This is all your fault! - Clopin screamed, out of control, nailing his finger on Frollo's shoulder.

Frollo snapped as if he had been burnt with that accusing finger. He immediately grabbed Clopin's throat, and smashed him into a wooden post behind them. His eyes were burning up with hate. Clopin's face started reddening, as his eyes opened wide and his mouth gasped vainly for air.

\- Master please! - Quasimodo screamed, grabbing Frollo's arm in an attempt to release Clopin. But the judge's iron grip wouldn't let go. Clopin's eyes were starting to roll back inside his head, as he was about to pass out. - This won't help her! She needs you now! - he cried, begging.

Those words hit a hidden cold spot in his mind, and Frollo suddenly felt the anger left him, and a rush of worry take its place. He let go of Clopin's throat, who collapsed into the floor coughing and panting.

But, as Frollo leaned back over Esmeralda, the gypsy man regained enough strength to get up and throw himself at the judge's back like an angry cat, willing to scrape, bite and do whatever it took to destroy the man. Luckily, Quasimodo was faster and intercepted him before he could reach Frollo's neck.

\- Stop! - he scolded him, grabbing both of his arms.

\- Let me go! - Clopin hissed, with bloodshot eyes.

\- What now? - Frollo turned again, his expression darkening once more.

_\- ENOUGH!_ \- Quasimodo screamed, at the top of his lungs. Both the other men stared at him, surprised at his unusual display of anger. - This is not helpful! You're wasting valuable time! You! - he said, pointing at Frollo, whose eyes were wide open in amazement - Do something! Help her! And you – he added, this time facing Clopin. - I think you should go.

\- What? - Clopin asked, in disbelief. - No way! I'm not leaving her with him!

\- This is my home – Quasimodo stated, staring intimidatingly at him. - You're Esmeralda's friend, which makes you my friend. But if you're gonna cause her trouble, you're not longer welcomed here.

\- Me? I'm not the one causing…!

\- Clopin- Quasimodo interrupted him, changing his tone to a pleading whisper. - Please. He needs to concentrate. He won't do it with you here. Please, trust me. You need to leave now.

Clopin looked at him, still with his mouth open to reply. But then he looked at Esmeralda, laying on the bed, appearing so vulnerable and weak. He felt a lump in his throat, as Frollo's hands searched inside his bag for medical supplies. He didn't know how to help her, but that hateful man did. He was their only hope.

\- Fine. - he agreed at last. - But mark my words – he said to Frollo's back – if you hurt her I will kill you.

Frollo let out a mocking snort at the gypsy's threat, but before neither of them could start fighting again, Quasimodo grabbed Clopin by the arm and escorted him to the exit ladder.

\- Trust me, I will be right here. She will be safe. - he reassured him again.

\- I'll come back in the morning. - Clopin promised, and with a final worried glance towards the bed, he climbed down the ladder and disappeared.

* * *

\- What do we do now? - Quasimodo asked Frollo, visibly relieved by Clopin's departure.

\- We need to reopen the wound and drain it. I will need my scalpel to cut through the stitches and skin. And more bandages. Do you have any wine left?

Quasimodo rushed to get him all he needed. He then observed attentive as Frollo proceeded with extreme delicacy and caution. Esmeralda groaned softly, but didn't wake up. The fever kept her in an unconscious, almost painless state.

After he had cleaned up the wound, fresh bright red blood stared coming out of it again.

\- She's bleeding! - Quasimodo noted, scared.

\- That's good. - Frollo explained.- It means the infection's out, and there is only clean blood inside now. I'm going to sew it again.

He then proceeded to stitch the skin back together. With each sting, Esmeralda turned a little in her bed, with small moans of complain, but Frollo held her ankle still enough to finish quickly.

\- It's done. - he announced, getting up with his forehead covered in sweat, and his hands stained with her blood.

Quasimodo raced to fetch him a clean towel.

\- Will she be alright? - he asked hopeful.

\- This should help. - Frollo answered, still concerned. - And the fever is a good sign too. It means her body is strong and fighting. But I don't know if the infection reached her blood. We'll see in the upcoming hours. Right now she needs to rest.

He covered her body with the sheet again, and taking the towel from Quasimodo's hand, he dried his face and hands on it. He looked suddenly exhausted.

\- You can go too- Quasimodo offered. - I will stay with her.

\- No. - Frollo replied plainly.

\- Alright. Then… maybe you'd like to sleep for a while too? I can prepare some blankets and…

\- No. - he repeated. - I just need to get some fresh air. - he stated, walking towards the outside corridor. - Call me if anything happens.

Quasimodo nodded, sitting by the bed where Esmeralda was breathing deeply, finally relaxed.

Frollo walked out, and the cold night breeze made him shiver. Or maybe he was already shivering. His hands were trembling heavily, and he had to grab the stone balustrade to keep them from shaking. His breathing accelerated. He had somehow manage to keep himself under control back there, but now that he was alone, the crippling terror was taking over him by the second.

_Why was he so afraid?_ he wondered, trying to keep his composure. Hadn't he just concluded hours before that this whole Esmeralda episode had just been a side note in his story, something that he was ready to leave behind and forget? Wasn't he finally getting back to being his usual impassive, cool-headed self? Weren't all these burning, overwhelming emotions finally under control?

_Apparently not_, he realized, defeated. He had been fooling himself, and now the truth poured over him as an overflowing river. Ever since she had left the palace, he had been miserable. All he could do was think about her and secretly wish he would run into her, even if he consciously avoided any possible encounters. When he had accidentally meet her at the cathedral two days ago, he had felt alive again for the first time since he had last seen her.

He then realized that he hadn't passed God's test, as he had previously thought. For even if he had let her go, it was only on the outside. He was still holding on to her on the inside. He was weak. And he also realized right in that moment that he would never be able to truly leave her behind. There wasn't enough will power in his flesh and bones to do so. And this was probably why God was punishing him now, through her.

Frollo ran his fingers through his hair, desperate. The gypsy jester was right; _this was his fault!_ He could see it clearly now. It was his own weakness and self-deception what had brought God's wrath upon Esmeralda.

He was pacing back and forth down the corridor, unable to stay still, with a consuming anxiety. The freezing wind kept increasing, as if mimicking his inner state. He looked up at the black sky, completely covered with clouds. Rain was coming, or, by the looks of it, maybe snow. He lowered his gaze again, and suddenly his eyes stumbled upon a stone visage staring right back at him. Her granite eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, as if she was coming to life.

\- _Notre Dame_ – he whispered hoarsely, his heart slowing down in his chest. Perhaps it was too late to do the right thing at God's eyes… but maybe His Mother still held some mercy on Hers.

He walked towards the statue with sudden reverence. When he reached her stone feet, he kneeled before them, with his hands to his heart in an honest gesture.

\- Beata Maria – he started his prayer, with the utmost respect.- I come before you again … with nothing left to offer. Everything I thought I was has been proved false. I am but a worthless man, a weak, fearful man. That is why I won't ask for your mercy on me. But … - his voice cracked, and to his own surprise, he felt his eyes fill with tears. - Esmeralda… she is different. She is kind, and compassionate. She is authentic. And she is able to find beauty even in the darkest of places. - his tears started rolling freely down his cheeks. - She is the one who deserves your mercy. She shouldn't have to pay for what I … - he couldn't keep talking, his voice was taken over by sobs. He finally let out all the pain, anger, and guilt he had been holding back. His whole body shook back and forth, as his hands covered his face. After a couple minutes, he inhaled deeply and forced himself to keep going. - Please, - he pleaded – let me pay for my own sins. If you want to punish me, I'll accept it. But I beg you… Spare her life. She is needed in this world of ugliness and cruelty. Don't let her die. Save her life, and I'll offer you mine instead. - he stated, in a suddenly calmer tone, as if it had already been settled. His tears ceased as he raised his gaze to meet the granite eyes that looked back at him, indecipherably. If there was any trace of mercy in them, he knew She would accept his offer. It was only fair.

As if it was a heaven confirmatory sign, Quasimodo appeared running through the door.

\- Master!- he called, out of breath – She woke up!


	18. Fever

\- _Clopin?_ \- Esmeralda called, confused and still somnolent. Her glazed eyes were barely open, and her hand was reaching out into the air.

Quasimodo took it and wrapped it inside his own big hand.

\- It's okay, I'm here. - he said in a comforting tone.

Frollo was standing right behind him, but his dark robes blended his figure with the darkness of the room, so Esmeralda didn't notice his presence at first. He was staring like a hawk over Quasimodo's shoulder, and couldn't help to feel a pinch of jealousy when he saw the ease and naturalness with which he touched her.

\- Where am I? - she asked, trying to focus her gaze in her dim surroundings.

\- You're at my home, in Notre Dame. - Quasimodo explained.

\- What? Why? What happened? - Esmeralda was getting nervous and she tried to raise herself from the bed.

Frollo quickly intervened, moving past Quasimodo and pushing her bare shoulder back into the pillow.

\- Don't move – he instructed.

Esmeralda immediately flinched away from his touch, and Frollo felt his heart sunk at her obvious rejection. She saw the sudden pain in his expression and quickly clarified:

\- No, it's... You're just so cold.

Frollo looked confused for an instant, and then he understood. He had just been outside, and his usually cold hands must have gotten even colder, specially in comparison to her burning feverish skin.

\- Forgive me – he whispered, retiring his hand and placing his palms together to rub them and blow some hot breath on them.

\- Where is Clopin? - she asked, looking around, still feeling misplaced.

\- He had to go. - Quasimodo explained carefully. She looked at him, aware of the caution in his tone, and then right back at Frollo, suspecting the cause of Clopin's departure. Quasimodo followed her gaze and quickly added – But he's okay. He will return in the morning.

That seemed to finally reassure her, and she let her head sink back into the pillow. She rubbed her eyes, as she began to become aware of the pain in her foot.

\- What happened? - she asked Frollo.

\- Your wound was infected. That got you ill. We cleaned it up and we're hoping you will get better in the upcoming hours.

\- Thank you. - she said with a scratchy voice.

\- Bring her some water. - Frollo ordered Quasimodo, noticing the dryness in her mouth.

When he left the room, the silence between them became suddenly awkward and dense. He didn't know what else to say and she knew better than to say any of what she was thinking.

\- The fever is good. - he eventually spoke, trying to break the tension. - It means your body is fighting the illness.

\- Aham. - she nodded, feeling kind of stupid. - So let's be thankful for that.

\- Yes. - he agreed, nodding back.

But he would have to swallow his words.

* * *

An hour later, Esmeralda had gotten much worse. A sudden spike in her temperature had her shivering in bed, with her hair damp in cold sweat, and her eyes wide at some hallucination brought by the fever. She was panting heavily, clearly scared.

Watching her like that tortured Frollo to his very core. He was unsure what to do, unable to help her anymore. The battle was taking place inside her veins, and it was all up to her to win it or to surrender to the illness. He kept repeating his prayer internally, over and over again. _Take me instead. Take me instead._ But nothing happened, and he was getting terrified by the minute.

Quasimodo was pacing back and forth, unable to stand still. He kept trying to give her water but she would shake her head violently and spill it every time.

\- She's cold. - he stated, watching her shiver. - I'm gonna get her more blankets.

\- No, wait. - Frollo stopped him, finally speaking out loud.- That will only raise her temperature. We need to lower it down.

\- How? - Quasimodo asked, raising his arms in desperation.

\- Bring some towels and more water. We'll damp them and place them on her skin. That will do.

The lad obeyed disposed. When he returned, he found his master kneeling by the bedside, slowly rolling up Esmeralda's sleeves and skirt to expose her arms and legs. He was doing so with such reverence, Quasimodo felt as if he was interrupting something intimate. But Frollo noticed his presence and with a hand gesture, he hurried him along. So the young man placed a basin full of water at his knees, with an already wet cloth coming out of it.

Frollo took the cloth, and after twisting it to get rid of the excess water, he placed it on Esmeralda's skin, above her wrist.

She screamed at the cold contact. Frollo's whole body stiffened. He knew this was good for her, but he also knew that to her, it felt like torture. He inhaled deeply, and sinking another piece of cloth in the water, repeated the process on her other arm.

She screamed again, and her eyes moved from one side to the other, watching something that they couldn't see.

\- No! No! Let me go! Let me go! - she pleaded, shaking her shoulders as if she was trying to get away from someone's grip.

\- What's happening to her? - Quasimodo was frightened at the sight.

\- She's hallucinating. She's seeing things, maybe it's her imagination, or memories. - Frollo explained, trying to reassure him as much as himself.

Esmeralda cried as he placed a third wet cloth on her neck.

\- No!- she begged again, sinking her nails into Frollo's forearm. - Please don't do this! We didn't do anything!

He wanted to talk to her, comfort her, take her out of her horrid visions. But he was paralyzed, his mind completely blank, unable to react. Quasimodo step forward, and leaning over her face, he stroked her hair.

\- Esmeralda, it's me, Quasimodo. - he whispered in a soothing tone.

\- Quasi? - she asked, her eyes looking for him. When she finally found his face, her gaze seemed to focus. But her expression remained terrified.- Quasi you have to leave! Run, now, or he'll burn you too!

The shock from those words hit Frollo like a hammer to his guts. _Of course._ _That's what she was hallucinating with._ Her worst fear, triggered by the burning sensation on her body. She was seeing the execution pyre, and himself as the executioner. That was the true image of him, carved into her mind, despite his attempts to redeem himself at her eyes and his own. To her, he would always be the man that intended to burn her and her people alive. How had he been so naive as to believe that she could see something else in him, other than that horrifying, yet truthful version of himself?

His hands began to shake heavily again. He was spinning out of control. He felt he was gonna be sick.

Quasimodo noticed his master's face turning yellowish, he saw him grabbing his hands to keep them from trembling, and he understood how Esmeralda's words had affected him.

\- I can do it – he kindly offered, gesturing towards the basin and wet towels. - I'll continue. You can go get some air.

Frollo wanted to refuse, he wanted to stay by her side and help her, even if that meant enduring her heartbreaking visions. It was the least he could do, a fair punishment. But he just couldn't. So he nodded grateful, and raced towards the exterior, where he leaned against the freezing stone wall.

When Quasimodo showed up there it was nearly dawn. Though the sky was still dark, there was a fine line of pale gray behind the clouds, near the horizon. He found Frollo still sitting there, with his eyes fixed on the empty darkness before him. He was so inexpressive, he almost resembled a stone statue himself.

\- Are you alright? - Quasimodo asked softly. Frollo seemed to break out of his stupor, and gazed at him with worried eyes. - She's finally asleep. Her temperature has gone down. - he informed the judge.

Frollo nodded, and exhaled heavily in relief. He looked exhausted. Quasimodo walked towards him and sat by his side, in silence, though he couldn't help to shiver when the cold wall touched his skin. He thought of suggesting to go inside, but Frollo seemed to be nailed in his fixed position, so he assumed he wouldn't want to move. He studied the older man's features, and he realized his eyes were reddened, as if he had been crying. He hesitated for a moment, but at last he said the words:

\- You care about her. - it wasn't a question. Just a plain statement.

Frollo looked at him again, neither affirming or denying. He just looked defeated and sad.

\- I heard you before. - Quasimodo added, his head pointing towards the Mary statue on the north wall.

The implications of these words sunk deeply into Frollo's heart. He considered trying to explain himself, trying to camouflage his feelings, pass them as just regular medical concern, or something like that, anything except the truth. But before he could decide his strategy, his own body betrayed him, and he found himself sobbing uncontrollably into Quasimodo's arms.

The lad was paralyzed, taken completely by surprise. But even if he couldn't understand what was going on inside Frollo's mind to appear so out of control and vulnerable, his compassionate heart guided him to comfort the man and reassure him, gently stroking his silver hair.

After a few minutes, Frollo's breathing calmed and he raised his head, clearing his throat and drying his wet cheeks, unable to look Quasimodo in the face. He stood up and looked over the balustrade, and suddenly he said in a thoughtful tone:

\- The bells…

\- What? - Quasimodo asked, unsure he had heard him well.

\- The bells. It's almost dawn. You'll have to ring the bells. They will wake her up.

\- You're right. - Quasimodo replied, frowning. - What can we do?

\- I'll take her to the palace. - Frollo quickly resolved. - She will be able to rest there, with no interruptions.

\- What about Clopin? He said he would come back in the morning. If he doesn't find her here…

\- I'm not worried about that buffoon. - Frollo claimed firmly.

Quasimodo frowned again, for he wasn't comfortable with his master's attitude towards the gypsies, and people in general. But he knew better than to try to reason with him, let alone at this particular situation, given what he had just witnessed.

\- Alright… I can help you carry her there. - he offered.

Frollo pondered for a second. He didn't like the thought of Quasimodo leaving the cathedral, but it was still dark enough to not have any prying eyes set upon them. If they were fast enough, the lad could be back at Notre Dame by the time the sunlight started creeping into the narrow streets of Paris.

\- That's what we'll do then. - he finally agreed. - Come on. There's no time to waste.


	19. The Plague

When Esmeralda woke up at her chamber in the Palace of Justice, it took her a while to understand what was going on. She felt her whole body sore, and had a terrible headache. And she was incredibly thirsty. _What had just happened? _

For a moment, she thought everything had been a nightmare. From the night of the storm, by the harpsichord… the kiss… her leaving the palace… the wound… When she thought about the wound, a sudden pain in her foot came into her consciousness. The pain was very real. So the wound had to be real as well. Everything had to be.

So what was she doing back in her bed, there? How had she gotten there? The memories she had from the past few hours were blurry and incoherent. She remembered being at the catacombs, but also at the cathedral. Had Clopin been at the cathedral? She also recalled the pyre, the fire reaching her skin and her own screams of pain. But how had she gotten to the pyre? Did Frollo sentenced her for not showing up to the cathedral in time for her daily report to Quasimodo?

The sharp pain in her head increased with the effort to understand. Her mouth was so dry, her tongue felt like sandpaper. _God, she would kill for some water. _

As if hearing her inner plea, her bedroom door opened. But her relief was quickly replaced by fear when she saw Frollo himself walking in.

However, he seemed glad to see her, and not threatening at all.

\- You're awake – he noted with satisfaction.

Esmeralda sat in the bed, pulling up the covers to hide her barely dressed body. _Who had changed her clothes? _

Frollo walked towards her and sat at the bed's edge. She was still staring at him, distrustful, when suddenly her fear was in turn replaced by astonishment when she realized the man was soaking. His silver hair was stuck to his face, and his wet clothes were dripping onto the floor. However, he didn't appear to notice or care about any of this, his whole attention focused on studying her face.

\- How are you feeling? - he asked, anxiously.

She opened her mouth to answer, but only a scratchy grunt escaped from her lips.

\- Forgive me- he quickly reacted, offering her the cup he was holding in his hand.

Esmeralda reached for it, and her fingers accidentally touched his. Their coldness immediately took her in a flashback to the night before, when he had touched her shoulder with his icy hand. The whole scene came back to her memory, and she remembered him taking care of her at Notre Dame. That explained how she had gotten back to the palace, he probably had taken her himself._ No pyres whatsoever._ She briefly thought of Clopin, but now that she knew she was safe, the excruciating thirst became her only concern. So she grabbed the cup, avidly taking it to her lips, but the smell of it made her stop before taking her first sip. She looked at Frollo, confused.

\- It's willow bark tea – he explained.- It will help with the pain, and not just the thirst.

She hesitated for a second, but she decided she trusted him enough not to turn down any kind of liquid. So she drank from the cup, and the warm tea cleared her throat and comforted her empty stomach, which, after a few sips, started to finally settle.

She felt as if she was drinking liquid clarity, for the whole recollection of the past two days was finally coming back and becoming separate from the visions she'd had during her fever. There had been no fire, no execution. Instead, she know remembered how Frollo had spent the whole night trying to help her get better. Why had he done that? Why did he care so much all of a sudden? It made no sense that he was just doing it to control her, or to win one of his twisted games. There was no victory at stake here. So why was he taking so much of his time to take care of her? _Wasn't he_, she thought bitterly, _a busy man? _

Frollo was watching her drink, expectantly. His scrutiny over her face determined that she was definitely feeling better. Though she looked tired for sure, her cheeks presented a nice, not pale nor heated color, and her eyes were bright, but not glazed by the fever.

\- Can I take a look? - he asked politely, pointing to her foot. She nodded, her face still half covered by the cup to her lips.

He barely lifted the covers to expose the wounded ankle. The wound was still fresh, since he had been forced to reopen it the night before, but there was no swelling or signs of infection. He smiled to himself, proud of his work. She noticed his good mood, and it encouraged her to ask:

\- So you know about healing herbs as well?- she said, rising her willow tea cup.

Frollo's smile quickly vanished and she could feel his body tensing.

\- Well, I know the basic medical properties, yes. - he answered, seemingly alert.

\- What's wrong? - she asked him, not sure if she would regret it.

But Frollo didn't seem mad, just pondering carefully what his next words should be.

\- There is a fine line between what's considered healing arts and what's considered sorcery. - he finally explained in a low tone. - My study of the herbs and its preparations has occasionally been mistaken for a secret elaboration of magic potions by those not versed in the matter. - he confessed, visibly irritated by people's lack of judgment.

\- I see – Esmeralda replied, trying to conceal a smile.

\- What's so funny? - Frollo asked, suddenly defensive.

\- Oh, it's nothing. I'm just thinking about how you're always condemning witchcraft and so, only to then be accused of it yourself. - she stated, fearing his reaction.

But Frollo must have been in a very good mood, because to her surprise, he narrowed his eyes with a playful expression and he yielded:

\- I guess I can see the irony in that…

Esmeralda chuckled, covering her mouth with one hand, hoping she wouldn't offend him, but again to her surprise, he returned another small crooked smile at her. In that moment, despite her exhaustion, her heart took a double leap inside her chest. His smile was something to behold, even if just for the scarcity of opportunities to do so.

\- Tell me more- she requested, leaving the empty cup in the nightstand, and accommodating herself in the bed.

\- What do you wish to know? - he replied, removing a strand of wet hair from his forehead, and sitting a little more comfortably in the bed.

\- How did you get into studying medicinal herbs? You seem to know a lot about many subjects- she finally asked, after pondering her options. She wanted to ask about the soaking dampness of his appearance, but she felt that somehow that would be sticking her nose in his business. So she decided on a more harmless matter. _Or that's what she thought, at least._

Frollo evaluated her expression, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to trust her enough to tell her the truth. But her wide emerald eyes were fixed upon his, and her gaze was of pure curiosity and held no judgment. So he finally decided to tell her the whole story. He sighed, and inhaling deeply, he began:

\- You're right, I've devoted myself to the study of several subjects. Law, theology, literature, music… and some other things as well. However, the medical subject was the first to caught my interest.

\- Was it? - she asked, amazed.

\- It was. - he hesitated for a moment.

He had only told this story to one person before in his entire life, and that was Quasimodo, the kindest and more trustworthy person he'd ever known. He knew his story was safe with him. And even so, he hadn't told him the crucial part, for he was so embarrassed about it. But Esmeralda was there, waiting for an answer, and he was just so glad that she was awake and talking, that he felt unable to deny her anything. So he kept going:

\- When I was a young boy, thirteen, the Plague arrived to the city. Have you heard about the Plague?

\- Of course. - she nodded, eager to listen the rest of the story.

\- Well, whatever you heard probably doesn't make it justice. It was terrifying. People were dropping dead every day, and no one knew how it was spread so everyone lived in a paranoid state every minute of every day. We wouldn't leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary, and when we did, we would cover our heads in a thick cloth that made it nearly impossible to breathe.

Esmeralda was frowning, trying to imagine that way of life.

\- But those precautions were eventually proven useless. One day, my mother woke up not feeling well, and in a few hours, both her and my father were evidently infected by the Plague.

Esmeralda gasped, taking her hand to her heart. But Frollo seemed absent, his mind immersed in his memories.

\- I tended to them the best that I knew how, while trying to keep my little brother, Jehan, away from them so he wouldn't get it too.

\- What about you? How did you know you wouldn't get it?- she asked, amazed.

\- I didn't. - he replied simply. - But I was the only one left to take care of them. We had no other family, and I needed my parents alive.

Esmeralda nodded slowly, and he kept going:

\- As the days went by it become evident that they weren't getting any better. One night, they were both shivering in bed, screaming in pain from the ulcers, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I decided to ask for help, to call my neighbors or anyone that could offer them some relief. I walked the dark streets knocking on doors, but no one would answer. People were terrified to open even the slightest slit on their windows, let alone their doors to someone who had been in contact with infected ones. I don't blame them. - he added, when he saw the condemning look on her face. - The Plague was ruthless.

But Esmeralda kept shaking her head slowly, with tears in her eyes, imagining the poor desperate boy knocking on every door and getting only silence for an answer.

\- When I was about to give up – he continued – I heard someone snapping their fingers at me, to catch my attention, from a dark alley. I walked over there and saw an old woman, inviting me to follow her. I wouldn't have usually trusted her, but I was desperate, you see – he clarified, bitterly.

Esmeralda was listening perfectly still, as she began to intuit where the story was headed.

\- She told me she knew my parents, and she wanted to help them. I was so relieved to have found someone willing to help that I didn't question her any further. She told me she had a newly discovered remedy for the Plague, but it was so rare and hard to find that she couldn't just give it away.

Frollo's teeth gritted, remembering his own credulity.

\- I was willing to do whatever it took to get the remedy, so I offered her everything we had. Our gold, some old family heirlooms, all of it. Whatever she wanted, in exchange for the cure. She agreed to meet me at that same spot at dawn, and promised to bring the remedy with her, enough of it to save both of my parents, if I brought her the gold.

Esmeralda was speechless. She knew the end of the story before he even told her. And yet, she was still hoping to hear a different ending, one that wouldn't break her heart. But Frollo's next words confirmed her worst fears.

\- So next morning I was there, holding a big bag full of gold in that dark alley. When the old witch finally showed up, she waved at me, holding the so-called remedy over her head, and inviting me to come closer. Then, from a corner, three men emerged and attacked me, robbing me the gold and leaving me with a bleeding nose in the ground. The woman walked towards me and threw a small flask at my feet._ "Here's your remedy!"_, she said laughing, and disappeared in the darkness before I could do anything about it. It was just pee.

\- Oh my God – Esmeralda gasped, her eyes overflowing uncontrollably. Her hands reached for his, but they were too far away, so she just stroked his elbow.

He flinched slightly at her touch, but didn't move away. His eyes were nailed to the floor, his hands resting on his lap.

\- My parents died that very evening. - he finished, in a deadly calm tone.

\- Oh my God – she repeated in a whisper. She couldn't conceive what he must had gone through. - I can't even… God, I'm so sorry. - she insisted, leaning towards him in an attempt to reach his arm.

But he turned to face her, unknowingly moving his arm further away.

\- Why would you be? It's not your fault.- he claimed plainly.

Esmeralda looked deeply into his eyes, seeing his efforts to conceal his pain and speak of it so matter-of-factly. But she knew there was something else. A missing piece of information, that he hadn't been able to tell her, yet she knew with almost certainty. But she needed to ask him nevertheless. Not only for her, but specially because of him. She needed him to know that she knew, that she understood. So she gathered her strength and asked the hardest question of all:

\- The woman who tricked you… and those men who attacked you… they... were gypsies, right?

Frollo stared at her, and she saw his own eyes tearing up in shame, anger and despise.

\- Yes. Yes, they were.

Esmeralda cried silently, her tears rolling down her cheeks freely without any attempt on her side to stop them. Frollo cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual composure. When he felt like his voice wouldn't break down, he concluded his story:

\- So that's how I got into studying medicinal herbs. I decided that next time someone I cared about was sick, I would be the one who know how to help them, so I wouldn't need to depend on anyone's good will, or lack of it. My brother and I were orphans and we needed a place to stay, so I offered my help to a barber, the only man I knew that had some knowledge about sickness and health. He taught me everything he knew, which wasn't much, and allowed Jehan and myself to sleep on his caravan, in exchange for my work and Jehan's help with his "house" chores. Eventually I grew tired of it, and decided to pursue more advanced education on my own. You can figure out the rest. - he pointed out, settling the matter.

Esmeralda nodded, absently. Her heart was still wrenched, and her mind was putting the pieces together. Now everything made much more sense. She wasn't justifying Frollo's behavior, but at least she could understand where he was coming from. Such a traumatic experience, being taken advantage of and hurt at his worst time of need, when he was just a child… no wonder he held such a strong prejudice towards her people.

Frollo was clearly uncomfortable, as if he had overshared and was now regretting it. He also looked exhausted and pale, and the water from his clothes was beginning to soak the bed underneath him. So he got up, and grabbing the empty cup from the nightstand, he said:

\- Well, I think that's enough for now. You should try to get back to sleep. Your body still needs the rest. I will have this refilled for you. - he told her, lifting the cup. Esmeralda gave him a weak smile, still struggling to find the words. - Are you sure you're alright? - he asked her then, with a frown of concern.

\- I'll be fine. I guess I just need to sleep… Thank you. - she answered, this time displaying a wider smile.

Frollo's frown vanished and a calmer expression replaced it. He sighed in relief, and right afterwards, he collapsed into the floor, the cup in his hand shattering into a million pieces.


	20. The Palace

Quasimodo was trying hard to stay awake for the final ringing of the bells at midnight. He felt his lids heavy as lead, and couldn't stop yawning.

It had been one of the most intense days of his life. After spending the whole night awake taking care of Esmeralda with Frollo, he had carried her in his arms to the palace of justice. Granted, he was actually very strong, and Esmeralda wasn't heavy, but still, after the sleepless night he had ended up with sore arms and back. But that couldn't stop him from his bell ringer duties, which were increased during Sundays, because they included the calls to mass.

After ringing the noon bells, Clopin had stormed into his quarter, demanding to see Esmeralda. When Quasimodo explained that they had taken her to the palace, the gypsy flew into a rage. It had taken all of his patience and convincing skills to calm the man and reassure him that she was perfectly safe and wouldn't be harmed. Finally, Clopin had yielded reluctantly, and had agreed to not show up at the palace and disturb her rest until the next day.

When he had left, Quasimodo sighed, equally relieved and frustrated. _Why couldn't they all get along?_ Didn't they want the same thing? But Esmeralda had managed to place herself between two stubborn, complicated men, neither of which was willing to even consider trusting the other. He hoped that the situation would resolve soon, and that they could go back to normal. Though, on second thought, he wasn't sure of what normal meant anymore.

He was pondering all of this, trying to keep his mind awake, when he heard quiet footsteps on the entrance, and the soft squeaking of the ladder that announced an incoming visitor. However, by the sound of it, it wasn't anyone he knew, for the steps were too light.

Suddenly alert, he hid himself in the shadow of a thick post, waiting for the visitor to reveal him or herself.

\- Hello? - a shrill voice called. - Is anyone here?

Quasimodo didn't recognize the voice, and he started to get nervous. Who was that, coming into his private space at night?

\- Who's there? - he asked, still from the shadows.

\- Quasimodo? - the voice replied, as the footsteps moved trying to locate him.

\- Who are you? - Quasimodo asked again, surprised that whoever it was knew his name.

\- I'm Pat! Patrice. - the boy announced.

It took Quasimodo a second to identify that name.

\- The stable boy? - he inquired, relaxing a little.

\- Yes, sir. - Pat answered politely.

_Sir?_ Quasimodo had never been called Sir in his entire life. He was surprised and honored by it, and decided to step out of the shadows into the dim moonlight that entered through the window.

The boy was standing there, looking the other way, but he turned around when he heard him moving. Quasimodo braced himself for his reaction when he saw his deformity, but though the boy looked stunned, he promptly gave him a wide smile.

\- Oh, there you are! It's so good to finally put a face to the name! - he said cheerfully.

For a moment Quasimodo flinched, but he quickly understood that there was no mockery intended in those words. The lad was actually happy to see him, though he couldn't understand why. Pat saw his baffled expression and explained:

\- Master Frollo told me a lot about you. And you once carved a wooden horse for me, as a present when I broke my arm falling of a real horse, remember? I still carry it around! - he announced proudly, and reaching into his pocket, he took the familiar figure out.

Quasimodo remembered that day, when Frollo had told him about Pat's accident and he had decided to give the judge the wooden horse for him to give it to Pat. He was again honored to see that the boy still kept his gift, so he smiled at him warmly, letting down his usual defensive attitude.

But then, once the initial stupor of his unexpected visit faded out, he realized there should be a reason for it. And given the time of the day, or to be precise, the night, it couldn't be good.

\- What are you doing here, Pat? - he asked, concerned.

\- Oh, yes! - Pat replied quickly, remembering his mission. - Mistress Esmeralda sent me.

-_ Mistress?_ \- Quasimodo repeated, amused, but he immediately returned to his concern. -Why? Is she okay?

\- I'm not sure – Pat confessed, adding – but she didn't sent me for her. She sent me because of Master Frollo.

* * *

While walking after Pat towards the Palace, Quasimodo realized that he had been out more times in the last month than in the rest of his entire life.

It was weird for him, for he felt at once excited and exposed. _But none of that mattered now_, he scolded himself internally. This wasn't about him.

When they entered the Palace, Pat stopped, hesitantly.

\- I should leave you here, Sir. I don't think I'm allowed in the private chambers. - he explained.

\- You're right. - a female voice said, coming into the hall through a nearby door. - You've been a good boy, Pat. Go fetch yourself a glass of milk and some biscuits from the kitchen, will you?

Pat frowned at the woman's patronizing tone, but he shruddered, and giving Quasimodo a smile and a nod, he ran towards the door, which the woman closed after him. She then walked towards Quasimodo, but once the light from the nearest torch illuminated his face, she was stopped right on her tracks with a gasp.

\- What in the Lord's… - Magdalene whispered, immediately covering her mouth in embarrassment for her reaction. - Excuse me. I just didn't know...- she tried to justify herself poorly.

Quasimodo felt his cheeks burning, and he wanted to turn around and run back to his sanctuary. But if Esmeralda had called him there, it must have been important.

\- I believe they are expecting me…? - he asked tentatively.

\- Yes. Yes, of course. Please follow me. - Magdalene indicated quickly, relieved to put an end to the uncomfortable tension. She started climbing the main stairs and Quasimodo followed her.

\- She's there – she said, pointing towards a chamber door.

\- Thank you. - Quasimodo muttered, and entered the room.

The warmth of the fireplace surrounded him, making him shiver from the contrast with the previous cold. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the room, and then he saw her, curled up in an armchair by the bed, sleeping. He walked towards her, and noticed she was wearing just her night clothes, and her hair was all messy.

\- Esmeralda? - he called softly, unsure if he should be waking her up.

But she opened her eyes at the sound of his voice.

\- Quasi! - she said, attempting to get up from the chair.

\- What are you doing? Don't move! - he instructed alarmed, pointing to her wounded foot, and grabbing her arm to help her regain balance.

\- Damn it, I forgot! - she cursed, sinking back into the armchair. - I'm so glad you could make it. I wasn't sure you'd trust Pat enough to leave with him, but I couldn't go myself for obvious reasons. - she pointed out, exasperated.

\- I liked Pat – Quasimodo confirmed with a brief smile, before asking- What happened?

Esmeralda looked at the adjacent bed, and only then Quasimodo realized that Frollo was lying upon it, seemingly unconscious.

\- What happened? - he repeated, frightened at Frollo's stillness.

\- I don't know. - Esmeralda explained in a rattled voice- We were just talking and then he got up and fainted. He hasn't awaken since.

\- Just like that? - Quasimodo asked, confused.

Esmeralda nodded, as confused as him. Then she recalled the weirdest part of their encounter.

\- He was all wet.

\- Wet...?

\- I mean, he was soaking. When he entered my room, his hair and clothes were all wet, I have no idea why.

Quasimodo frowned, baffled, but then he gasped and a sudden look of understanding appeared in his face.

\- What? - she asked anxiously.

\- He should have listened to me! - he said, more to himself than to her.

\- I don't understand. - Esmeralda said, getting frustrated.

\- When we got you here – Quasimodo began to explain- Frollo thought that you could benefit from some willow bark. It's good with the pain and fever.

\- Yes, he gave me some tea made with it. - she nodded.

But Quasimodo shook his head, biting his lower lip with worry. Esmeralda raised her eyebrows, awaiting an explanation.

\- He didn't have any left. - he continued. - So he thought of collecting some from the trees by the river, outside the city, where the forest begins.

\- Aha…

\- I thought he would send a servant or even one of his soldiers to collect it. But he insisted on going himself. He said he didn't trust anyone else to recognize the correct tree and to extract the bark properly. He feared someone else might get it wrong and give you something toxic by mistake. But I told him not to go.

\- Why not? - Esmeralda asked, puzzled.

\- Because the storm had already reached the city and it was pouring. And given the cold I feared it would soon become a snow blizzard, as it did. I insisted him that it wasn't worth the risk, that you would be okay if you just slept properly… and I thought I had convinced him. But he must have left the moment I returned to the cathedral.

\- So… - Esmeralda mumbled, turning her gaze towards the laying man on the bed. - You're saying… he went into a snow storm to get _me_ some _tree bark_?

\- I think so. He probably came straight to you right after returning, to bring you the willow tea. That's why he was still wet. The cold, and the exhaustion from our sleepless night, following his journey… it must have been too much on his body.

\- But… why? - she wondered, looking back at Quasimodo, searching for an answer that made sense to Frollo's unbelievable behavior. - Why would he do all of that?

\- To help you. - Quasimodo replied, as if stating the obvious.

\- Yes, but why? Why go all that way, risking his own wellbeing… I mean, look at him now.

Quasimodo approached the bed a little more, sitting on its edge. Frollo was pale as death itself. His whole face seemed to sunk into his skull. He was covered with thick blankets but still, his skin felt icy to the touch. And his breathing was so shallow, his chest was barely moving.

\- Well, at least he doesn't have a fever – Quasimodo pointed out, hopeful.

But Esmeralda's expression darkened, remembering what Frollo had told her the night before about her fever. Her tone was ominous when she replied:

\- Quasi, I don't think that's good. It means his body is not fighting.


	21. Death

The dark tiles on the Palace's roof were quickly being covered by the falling snow.

The contrast between black and white was simple, yet so beautiful, Frollo thought to himself. He wondered why he had never noticed that before, why he had never stopped to look at that compelling view of the whole building covered in white from above.

It took him a minute to realize that he had never seen that before because he was looking from an impossible angle.

He looked down again, at the Palace at his feet, and shocked, he noticed that he had no feet. He was floating in the nocturnal air, above the building, and he couldn't see anything behind his white night robe. He tried to move and immediately, his awareness was transported in the direction of his thoughts.

_What in God's name was going on? _

He lifted his palms in front of his face, and saw them translucent, almost transparent, just a thin fog in the shape of his hands.

The comprehension of his situation started to slowly sink in. He was outside his body. But he was somehow alive and aware. Was this death? He didn't remember dying. His last memory was getting up from Esmeralda's bedside, and then… the snow covered roof.

Had he died? When? How?

And if he was dead… why was he still there? In Paris? He always thought that after death, he would somehow find himself before God, who would judge his deeds and decide if he was allowed in Heaven or sent to Hell. That's what he had been taught, and what he firmly believed.

But he was all alone. Did this mean he was a ghost now?

A crippling terror started to take over him. What if this was it? No Heaven, no Hell. Just the same old, empty, cruel world, but with no physical form? Doomed to spend eternity as a ghost, unseen and unheard, completely alone?

_No. No. That couldn't be possible._ God was just and merciful. He wouldn't allow that fate upon His children, at least not without a fair trial first. Frollo was sure of this.

But then… where was He?

He looked around again, over the city. And then he saw it. Of course. Notre Dame. If God was waiting for him somewhere, it had to be there. He would go over there, and demand an explanation. It wasn't in vain that he had spent his whole life as a pious man, devoted to doing the right thing by His rules. He deserved more than a ghostly, doomed eternity.

Just with this thought, he felt himself being propelled towards the cathedral towers, among the storm clouds.

He saw the stone walls approaching, and feared he would crash into them, so he instinctively covered his head with his arms, but nothing happened. When he opened his eyes, he was standing there, floating over the corridor that connected both towers. The stone arcs were starting to be covered in snow as well, and it made a perfectly symmetric view.

But Frollo was too altered to think about that. He was busy wondering where exactly he could find God. His logic told him to look for Him inside, at the altar. Though there were many altars in the cathedral, devoted to different saints. Which one would God choose to show Himself?

However, his intuition told him to look up, closer to the sky.

So, impulsed only by his sheer will, he soared to reach the rooftop corridor, where hours before he had been sitting in the dark, while Esmeralda was fighting her illness.

It was empty. Quasimodo was nowhere to be found, and that was strange. He never left the cathedral, not unless something serious happened. Then again, if he was dead, perhaps Quasimodo was guarding his body somewhere.

Suddenly, he heard a voice inside his mind, a warm familiar voice.

\- Come here, my son. - the voice said.

He turned around, looking for someone, but there still was no one there. The corridor was empty. _But… wait a second. No, it wasn't possible. _

\- Come. - the voice invited again, and this time Frollo was sure. It was the statue. Mary's statue, the one he had been praying to the night before. It was looking right at him.

He felt a sudden surge of shame take over his… body? He now wanted to hide himself, in all his sinful humanity, terrified of what could happen to him if anyone saw his true essence.

But, as if he was being pulled by a magnetic force, he found himself right in front of the statue. He saw it come to life, her eyes becoming human and bright, her stone lips curling in a welcoming smile, and her hands breaking free from the wall and opening towards him.

\- Why are you so scared, my son? - she asked, without moving her lips. Her voice just somehow sounded inside his mind, though he felt like he was hearing it inside his chest, as if she was speaking telepathically right into his heart.

He couldn't find the words to answer, or to say anything else, to that matter. He was so overwhelmed by the experience, still unsure if it was really happening or it was just some hallucination. Maybe he had gone crazy.

\- You're not crazy. - the woman reassured him.

\- Am… Am I dead? - Frollo finally dared to ask. As with her, the words didn't come from his mouth but rather sounded in the air, inside his mind.

\- You're also not dead. Not yet.

_Not yet?_ What did that mean? Was this some kind of middle ground, between life and the after-life? Did that mean his body was still alive?

\- Yes. - her voice answered his unspoken questions, apparently able to read his mind. - Your body is still in your bed, hanging by a thread. That thread. - her stone index finger pointed toward his stomach, and he was suddenly aware of a dim silver cord that started on his belly and continued forward, fading into the distance in direction to the palace. It was sort of a spiritual umbilical cord, and when he focused on it for a while, he could feel the softest pull from his body at the other end of it.

\- What is happening? Why am I here? - he asked the statue, encouraged by the warm kindness in her gaze.

She smiled in a soothing way, and her hand reached for his arm. Though he had no flesh, he could somehow feel her gentle touch, and her powerful energy filled him with trust.

\- Do you remember what you said to me last night? - she asked softly.

\- Yes. - he said, recalling his desperate prayer. _So that was it._ His prayer had been heard. God had chosen to take him up on his offer, and He had saved Esmeralda, and was now claiming His part of the deal.

\- There is power in words. - the woman explained calmly. - Specially those that come from the honesty of the heart. You said you wanted to give up your life for hers, so you brought upon yourself the circumstances that lead you to precisely that.

Frollo took a deep breath. Though he had no lungs, or nose, or any other physical parts, he could feel the air coming inside him and giving him courage.

\- I'm ready. - he stated convinced. - I am a man of my word.

The statue smiled again tenderly.

\- That's good. But that is not how this works. - she replied.

\- What do you mean? - Frollo asked, baffled.

\- Your life and death are sacred, and only yours, my son. No one will demand you to give them up. I believe you have a choice to make now.

* * *

A couple hours had gone by, and Frollo didn't show signs of getting better. They had tried to wake him up, but he was profoundly unconscious. If it wasn't for the weak pulse they kept checking in his neck, they would have definitely thought he was dead.

Quasimodo kept insisting Esmeralda to go have some rest herself, as they couldn't do anything to help the man, and she was still recovering. But she refused time and again. She would only doze off in the armchair for brief periods of time, after which she anxiously asked Quasimodo if there was any change, only to get the same negative every time.

When she woke up for the forth time and Frollo was still unconscious, she looked at Quasimodo with desperation in her eyes.

\- Is there really nothing we can do? - she pleaded. - Maybe we should call someone.

\- Who? - Quasimodo replied, rubbing his eyes. He was also exhausted, for this was his second night awake in a row, and he was having a hard time thinking clearly.

\- I don't know… some kind of doctor, something like that.

\- I don't know anyone. - Quasimodo admitted embarrassed. Esmeralda felt guilty, for it was now obvious to her that the poor man couldn't have met many people while living exiled in that tower. - Anyway, I don't think there's much anyone could do. He's not showing any symptoms. He doesn't have a fever, or a cough, or any kind of pain that we know of. He's just… gone.

\- He's not gone. - she quickly replied. - He's still here. He's breathing, and his heart is beating.

\- But he doesn't look like he's _here_. - Quasimodo pointed out in a whisper.

Esmeralda frowned, her forehead deeply wrinkled with worry. Until her expression changed all of a sudden.

\- I know what we should do! We should pray! - she said, excited at the perspective of at least doing something.

\- That's a good idea! - Quasimodo replied, equally glad. - He would like that very much. He did the same for you yesterday.

He suddenly looked away, with an awkward look on his face. The words had slipped from his mouth before he had time to consider that Frollo wouldn't like him revealing his private moment of vulnerability to her. But it was too late. Esmeralda had heard him, and leaning forward on the chair, she inquired:

\- He did?

Quasimodo was rubbing his hands against each other nervously, feeling his cheeks turn red. He was certain that Frollo would severely scold him if he found out he had betrayed his trust.

\- Quasimodo! - Esmeralda called out, attempting to get up from the armchair.

\- No, please! Don't get up! - Quasimodo begged her.

\- Then answer me! - Esmeralda replied irritated.

\- Alright, okay! - Quasimodo yielded, running his hands through his messy red hair, and then covering his face with them. He inhaled sharply, and gathering his strength, he decided to tell her the truth. - You know how you told me before that you couldn't understand why he would do this for you? - he asked, pointing at the man laying on the bed.

\- Yes.

\- Well… it's obvious to me, but apparently not to you.

\- What is? - she asked cautiously.

\- He cares about you. - Quasimodo stated.

\- What do you…?

\- He **_cares_** about you. - he repeated, putting a special emphasis in the second word, and giving her a meaningful look.

Esmeralda quickly reacted, leaning back into the armchair and crossing her arms.

\- You're wrong. - she replied.

\- I am? - Quasimodo asked her in a mocking tone.

\- Yes. - she affirmed with certainty. - I also thought that for a while… but then he proved me wrong.

\- How?

\- He told me to leave the palace, and made it pretty clear that he never wanted to see me again.

\- You mean when he offered you your freedom back? - Quasimodo asked again, trying to prove his point.

\- It wasn't like that. It was… I don't know. It's hard to explain. - she replied, frustrated.

\- Look, – Quasimodo said in a low conciliatory tone- I don't know the details of what happened while you were here, or how you decided on your new arrangement. But I know Frollo. I've known him my entire life. And though I know he cares about me, in his own way… I've never seen him like he was last night.

\- Like what? - she asked hesitantly.

\- With such intense feelings and reactions.

\- I'm not sure that's a good thing. - Esmeralda stated, lifting her eyebrows. - Remember what happened the last time he got… _intense_?

\- No, this was nothing like that – Quasimodo replied convincingly. - Trust me, Esmeralda. This wasn't some mad, selfish obsession. I believe it was the most selfless he's ever been.

\- What makes you so sure? - she asked in a whisper.

The bell ringer hesitated for a moment. Answering that would be crossing a line. But he didn't know if Frollo would ever wake up, and he knew Esmeralda wouldn't take no for an answer, and he was scared, sad and tired. He didn't have the strength to keep pondering anymore.

\- Because, – he finally said – when he was praying, I heard him offering God his own life in exchange for yours.

Esmeralda's mouth opened in bewilderment. She looked at Quasimodo as if searching for a confirmation, and he nodded back at her. She was frozen still for a second, and then, without second though, she got up from the chair, stepping only on her right foot. Quasimodo protested but she raised her palm at him to prevent any attempt to stop her. He reluctantly observed as she moved towards the bed, jumping on one leg. She sat on the edge, with a heavy sigh from the effort, and then she leaned towards Frollo.

Esmeralda placed her hand on Frollo's soft cheek. The coldness of it sent a shiver down her spine. But it only made her more determined, and with a deep frown, she said to the sleeping man:

\- Don't you dare do this! You need to start fighting, right now! You can't just give up your life like that! Not because of me, you can't put that on me! - she scolded him, though with each sentence her voice was cracking more and more, turning into a pleading cry. - So you have to fight, you hear me?

But the man didn't move, or react, or gave any sign that he was listening to her words at all. So she sighed with exasperation, and she leaned even closer to him, holding his face to hers and placing her lips by his ear, so no one else could hear her next words.

\- Please, Claude, - she whispered, with a warm tear rolling down her cheek and falling into his silver hair. - I'm not done with you.

* * *

The statue's words had left him bewildered. What did she mean, it was his choice?

Again, her voice sounded in his head, answering his unspoken questions.

\- I mean precisely that. You're at the edge of death. It is your choice to come back or to continue your journey beyond.

\- It doesn't make sense – Frollo protested, confused. - I failed God's test, I was selfish and kept Esmeralda under my control instead of letting her go for real. And then He made her sick to reveal the error in my ways. I begged you to intercede so He would save her… offering my own life in exchange. So, if I decided to come back, wouldn't that mean failing His divine test again?

\- My beloved child… - the sweet voice said, full of compassion.

And then the weirdest thing happened.

The statue's face began to get blurry, as it morphed into something different. Her whole body emerged from the stone wall, shrinking to a human size, and her granite skin transformed to flesh. Frollo was staring amazed at this metamorphosis. But when the process ended, and he saw who was standing there, his heart _(or whatever it was that he felt beating inside)_ stopped.

\- Mother? - he asked in disbelief.

\- Claude. - the woman called with the warmest smile.- I'm so happy to see you.

\- What… what is happening? - he asked again, utterly confused.

\- We just thought it would be easier for you this way. - the woman explained kindly.

\- We…? - he began, but then his mother reached out to him and he marveled at the realness of her touch. Her hand felt warm on his, solid. He started trembling, his eyes tearing up, and suddenly it didn't matter what was real and what wasn't, where he was or why. His mother, the one he had been missing his entire life, the person he would have given anything in his power to save… was there again, with him.

He kneeled to the floor, and the woman kneeled before him, placing her hands on both sides of his face.

\- My dear boy… - she whispered, and then she took Frollo's head to her chest, and cradled it there.

Frollo closed his eyes and focused only on her presence, her fingers running through his hair, soothing him. He could have stayed there forever. For the first time since she had died, he felt protected again, safe. Like he could relax and everything would be okay. Like he didn't need to be in control of everything, for there was someone else, someone he trusted, someone who loved him… that would take care of him. He felt so overwhelmed with gratitude, he couldn't even think. He realized the heavy burden he had been carrying up until that instant, and how exhausted he was. It wasn't his body, or his age, what was weighing him down. It was his weary soul, always alert, always forcing himself to be in charge of things. Always afraid. Always alone.

\- Claude… - his mother softly called. He raised his head to look at her. Her eyes were full of love and compassion. - You got it all wrong, my dear.

\- What do you mean? - he asked, with a childlike openness.

\- What happened with Esmeralda… it isn't like you think. It was a divine test… but not the one you thought it was. It wasn't meant to prove if you were able to stay away from her. It was meant to prove if you were able to love her.

Frollo was shocked. And yet, a deep shiver at his core recognized the truth in those words.

\- You've spent your entire life with your heart locked away inside an impenetrable wall. God wasn't trying to tempt you, or to make things harder on you… He was trying to help you. He was trying to make His Love get through to you.

\- But… but her wound… her sickness…

\- That wasn't a punishment, my love. Just a second chance at realizing what truly mattered to you. To both of you.

Frollo felt tears rolling down his ethereal cheeks. He didn't know how this was possible, but at this point he no longer cared.

\- So what now? - he asked, with a cracking voice.

\- That's up to you to decide – his mother repeated. - You know...when the exhaustion and cold hit your body, you just gave up. You were so willing to die, to let go, that your body didn't even try to survive. But God doesn't want you to die. He will welcome you Home if you decide to pass away... but He believes that there's still a chance for you here.

\- A chance…?

\- To love – she explained with a smile, stroking his cheek. - You see… anyone can die for love. But can you **_live_** for love?

That question shook him to his core. It was true, he had been willing to die if that meant saving Esmeralda. But going back to her… opening his heart to her, risking that vulnerability, exposing himself to her likely rejection… that was much harder and terrifying.

It had been easier when he thought that letting her go was God wanted from him. It had given him the most powerful excuse to push her away and stay safe inside his defensive walls. But now he understood God had never asked such a thing from him. Instead, He had sent him that dream to prevent him from hurting her or anyone else. And when they had drifted apart, He had reunited them at the cathedral, which caused them to get closer again. God wasn't punishing him. He was loving him. He was giving him what he never knew he always wanted. A chance to live more fully. And the freedom to choose whether or not to take it.

But looking at his mother again, Claude Frollo felt his heart shattering, upon the realization that he wouldn't be able to do it. He lacked the courage to expose himself to the intensity of grief again. He had loved his mother with all his childish, innocent heart… and the uncontrollable forces of sickness and cruelty had ripped her from him. And now his much older, wiser heart had fallen for the gypsy dancer… but he wasn't willing to go through that again. He wouldn't survive it.

\- What will happen to me if I chose not to return? - he asked whispering.

\- I can't tell you that… - she answered gently. - But you shouldn't fear it. God will be there with you.

\- Have you met Him? God? - he suddenly inquired with reverence.

His mother displayed an enigmatic smile.

\- He's not who you think either. He's not even a _"he"_. There are no words to explain it to you… but whenever you're close to love, you're close to It.

Frollo suddenly remembered how he had felt when Esmeralda kissed him. How he had felt connected to a higher power, made of kindness and forgiveness. Now that he knew the truth, it made much more sense. But still… still, his decision remained the same.

\- It's okay then. - his mother reassured him, reading his thoughts and feeling his concern. - It's your decision. You will be fine.

So he inhaled slowly, tasting the feeling of the air coming one last time into his chest, even if it wasn't his physical one. The snow storm had stopped, and a clearing in the horizon was allowing the sunlight from the upcoming dawn to get through. It was going to be a beautiful morning, he thought, if the sun was going to shine over the snow. A perfect goodbye to his earthly existence. He thought of the people he cared about. He felt a pinch of worry about Quasimodo, but then he realized that Esmeralda and his new friends wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. He thought that his departure would at last free her from his control, from her fear of him. He remembered the terror she had felt during her hallucinations, and was glad to think that she wouldn't feel that ever again. She and her people would be safe now. Safe from him. The monster who had almost burned them alive. He hoped God would have mercy on him. He had done the best he could.

He finally exhaled, and as the air exited his lungs, he let all his worries and attachments leave him as well. It was time. He was ready to die.

As the first ray of sun hit his eyes, at the top of Notre Dame, Claude Frollo bid his life farewell.

But then, another voice sounded in his head. It wasn't his mother's, or the statue's. It was Esmeralda's. And she was calling his name.


	22. The Choice

**SOUL ALCHEMY. PART 2. **

(Chapter 22. The Choice)

That sunrise was the first in many, many years that Notre Dame's bells didn't ring. Their unusual silence almost felt more loud than their habitual song. All the citizens of Paris were astonished, as if they had unknowingly traveled during the night to a different land, one covered in snow and devoid of their beloved cathedral's voice. The archdeacon was the most surprised of all, but when he climbed the tower in search for an explanation, the bell ringer was gone.

_\- Please, Claude, - Esmeralda whispered, with a warm tear rolling down her cheek and falling into his silver hair. - I'm not done with you._

And then his eyelids moved slightly. He was still unconscious, but she had seen it, that small twitch.

She gasped, and placing her hands on his chest, she called his name again:

\- Claude? Claude! Can you hear me?

A brief, low grunt vibrated in his throat.

\- He's waking up! - Esmeralda cried to Quasimodo, who rushed to her side.

\- Father? - he called, hopeful.

Esmeralda was moved to hear Quasimodo call him that. Even if he was indeed his adoptive son, neither of them usually called the other by such familiar appellatives. But now, the young man was filled with emotion and tension, and his true feelings for the man who had saved his life were coming up to the surface.

Frollo grunted again, and his eyes began to open tentatively.

\- Quick, bring him some water. - Esmeralda urged Quasimodo, and he raced towards the porcelain jar over the table, but it was empty.

\- There isn't any left! - he announced.

\- Kitchen! - Esmeralda replied briefly, pointing towards the door with her eyes still scrutinizing Frollo's face. She heard the door closing behind Quasimodo, and his rushed footsteps down the hall.

Frollo finally opened his eyes completely, and looked around with a blurred vision. _Where was he?_ He remembered standing on Notre Dame's highest edge, ready to let go and die and then… her voice, calling his name. Each time she pronounced it, he felt a stronger pull from the silver cord that was connecting his ethereal form with his physical body. He had tried to resist it at first, but it had been useless. The pull was just too strong.

And then… pressure. An awful pressure surrounding him, a claustrophobic density all around his previously translucent form. It was so uncomfortable, so painful. He felt as if he was being trapped and immobilized against his will. Why had he come back? He was free of his burden at last, and now he found himself back to it, only now he could tell the difference with his true essence, so it felt much more horrible. This was wrong. _It was a mistake!_ Why would he…?

\- Can you hear me? - her anxious voice repeated, and this time he could hear it with his ears, instead of inside his head.

He moved his head slowly, feeling as if every movement took all of his strength. And then he met her face, leaning over him, lined equally with worry and hope. His gray eyes were able to finally focus, and they met her emerald ones.

And then, as if some missing piece had finally clicked into place, it all made sense. It was all worth it. The pain, the heaviness, the burden. They had allowed him to get back to her, and in that moment he wondered how he had even considered letting go without having looked into her eyes one last time.

\- Claude?- she insisted, getting concerned by his lack of response.

He tried to speak but only a faint moan was able to escape his lips. But it was enough. Esmeralda sighed with immense relief.

\- Oh, thank God. - she said, letting her face fall down into her palms, her thick messy hair all around it, hiding it from his view.

Oh no. He hadn't come all this way back to lose that precious sight again so soon, he thought, and with great effort, he lifted his hand and tried to move her hair away to uncover her face.

She was caught off guard, but when her teary eyes emerged from her palms, a beautiful smile was accompanying them.

\- Thank you – she said hoarsely.

Frollo let his hand fell down to his chest, unable to hold it up any longer, and he barely shook his head, as if to say _"it's nothing."_ Esmeralda wiped her cheeks, and taking his hand she leaned closer.

\- No. Thank you for choosing to live. - she whispered.

He looked deep into her eyes again. How did she know? How could she possibly know what he had experienced, that he had had a choice and wasn't simply unconscious? He didn't have an answer to these questions, but he had the certainty that she somehow knew and understood how hard it had been for him. And she sounded so grateful that he had done it. But before he had time to consider why, Quasimodo stormed back into the room.

He raced to the bed, holding a cup of water in his hands. Magdalene was following him, carrying a new jar to substitute the other one.

Esmeralda moved back to give him some space to get to Frollo.

\- Is he okay? - he nervously asked her.

\- I think so. - she nodded with a smile.

Quasimodo's eyes teared up as well, as he carefully held Frollo's head to raise it and put some pillows under it so he would be incorporated and able to drink. He took the cup to his lips and tried to help him drink, but Frollo was finding it hard, for even swallowing required his effort. So Quasimodo gave up and left the cup by the nightstand. However, Frollo held his hand briefly, and he gave Quasimodo a grateful look. He awkwardly patted Frollo's hand, not used to any display of affection coming from the judge. Esmeralda tried to conceal a smile, looking the other way to give them some privacy.

\- It's good to see you awake, Sir. - Magdalene said from a respectful distance.

Frollo hadn't noticed her presence, and when he heard her, his body stiffened a little, and his hand let go of Quasimodo's. Being vulnerable in front of his adoptive son was one thing, but doing so in front of the servants was another. He counted on their respect, and even a healthy amount of fear. He didn't want them seeing him like this. So with a tremendous effort, he cleared his throat and said:

\- Thank you, Magdalene. That would be all for now. - his voice was scratchy but decisive, and the housekeeper looked at him with an offended expression on her face.

\- Actually, Sir… there's something else. - she stated, irritated.

\- What is it? - Quasimodo asked on his behalf.

\- The gypsy man… he has returned. - she informed them, unsure of what she was expected to do about it.

\- Clopin. - Quasimodo deduced, looking at Esmeralda. - He agreed to let you rest yesterday and to come get you today. It's already morning. - he explained, pointing at the window, that was letting in the first timid rays of the winter's sun.

Esmeralda blew, exasperated.

\- Of course he did. Can you help me get down there and talk to him? - she asked, offering her hand to Quasimodo.

\- Are you leaving?- he asked, perplexed.

Esmeralda opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly hesitated. She looked back at Frollo, fearful of what he would want her to do.

He was looking at her as well, awaiting her answer, unsure of what he wanted to hear.

Yes, he had chosen to come back to life. To come back to her. But that didn't mean he knew what his next step would be. He still agreed with what he had decided during his ghostly experience; he wasn't ready to open himself to that kind of feelings, and the inevitable risk of grief that came with them. Besides, he knew now that keeping her as a prisoner, even if it was like it had been before her wound, with her mandatory visits to the cathedral… it just wasn't an option anymore. If he was to love her truly, even if it just happened inside of him without her knowing, taking away her freedom couldn't be part of the deal. But that meant if she left now, he wouldn't know when, or if, he would see her again.

Esmeralda was still hesitant, so he finally felt forced to say something.

\- You should go home. - he said, and the words broke his heart as soon as he heard them out loud.

Esmeralda's heart also felt as if it had taken a knife.

\- But… - she said doubtfully – I don't want my wound to get infected again. If I have to start going back and forth again… maybe I should just…

But Frollo interrupted to clarify:

\- No. No going back and forth anymore. You should go home for good.- he said, attempting to smile and failing flagrantly. He knew that giving her freedom back was a generous act, but he just couldn't feel happy about it. He couldn't even fake said happiness.

Esmeralda was too anxious, fearing another separation, to stop for a minute and digest what the man was offering her. Instead, she tried a different approach, searching desperately for a valid excuse to prolong her stay.

\- What about you? You just came back from the dead. You'll need someone to take care of you.

But this was the worst she could have said, for it triggered all of Frollo's insecurities. He felt she saw him like an invalid, like a decrepit old man that couldn't take care of himself. His defensive barriers jumped right back in.

\- I'm perfectly able to take care of myself. - he stated harshly.

\- No, you're not. - she protested.

He couldn't take it. Being rejected by her was an awful perspective, but at least when she hated or feared him, he knew she respected his power. But being pitied by her… that left him with nothing but shame.

\- Quasimodo will stay.- he then settled. Quasimodo was looking at them alternately, but when he heard his name he winced and promptly nodded.

But Esmeralda wasn't going to give up.

\- Quasimodo has bells to ring – she affirmed in all seriousness. - I don't have anything or anyone depending on me.

\- I won't become the first one to do so, then. - Frollo stated, with the same unyielding tone.

They stared at each other in silence, both displaying a stubborn frown.

Quasimodo snorted with exasperation. He was about to say something, when Magdalene came into the room again, visibly upset.

\- The man is insisting on seeing you, miss. He says if you don't come out he will come fetch you himself. - she informed irritated at this lack of order.

\- Damn it, Clopin! - Esmeralda mumbled. - Please, help me get to him. - She asked Quasimodo again. - I don't want him causing a scene, and he will.

Quasimodo approached her and slid a strong arm around her waist, while she threw her own arm over his shoulders to lean her weight on him.

\- Be careful. - Frollo instructed, and though none of them turned around, he could hear her snorting with sarcasm as they left his room.

He looked at her limping figure, trying to carve it into the deepest part of his memory, where no time or oblivion could erase it. He didn't know if he'd ever see her again. And she hadn't even said goodbye.

* * *

\- Hey! - Esmeralda called out to the man playfully sliding his basic leather shoes through the snow covered cobblestones.

\- Finally! - Clopin exclaimed cheerfully, and ran towards her, lifting her from the ground in a tight embrace. - How are you feeling?

\- I'm good. - Esmeralda answered, tapping his shoulder so he would bring her down, where Quasimodo promptly grabbed her again.

\- You are? - Clopin asked, taking a few steps back down the stairs to get a complete look at her- No fever?

\- No. It still hurts… but I feel much better.

\- That's my sister! I knew you were strong enough to kick that infection in the ass! - Clopin celebrated clapping.

\- Well, it was actually Frollo who _kicked it in the ass._ \- Esmeralda pointed out, copying his words. - If it hadn't been for him I don't know if I would have made it.

Clopin's expression immediately changed, revealing his blunt despise for the man.

\- Well, whatever, what matters is you're okay now. Let's go home. - he encouraged her, attempting to take Quasimodo's place in helping her walk.

\- Wait… - she said, giving Quasimodo a quick hesitant glance and then looking down. - I think I'm going to stay for a while.

Clopin laughed at what he thought was a blatant joke. But when he tried to grab her arm again and she pulled away, his smile vanished.

\- What are you saying? - he asked, baffled.

\- Clopin… there are things you don't know. - she tried to justify herself.

\- Then tell them to me. - he demanded, getting angry by the second.

\- Frollo got sick trying to get me a remedy for my fever. He nearly died.

\- Don't get my hopes up. - Clopin pleaded with a dark grin.

Quasimodo grunted lowly, but he decided it was best not to intervene in the already tense enough conversation. Esmeralda was hurt by his words but at the same time, she understood Clopin's feelings. So she kept going, pretending she hadn't heard the cruel remark.

\- I think I should stay and make sure he's okay.

Clopin's eyes were wide with bewilderment.

\- You have to be kidding me. - he affirmed, but Esmeralda shook her head silently. - So you're telling me Frollo is in his deathbed, sick and weak… isn't he?

\- Yes.

\- And you say you want to stay? Are you out of your mind? This is our chance! We should leave the city now that he can't chase after us! If we leave today we can settle somewhere else, where nor he or his soldiers will have any power over us!

He was suddenly excited, talking fast and looking past her, to the bright future of freedom he was envisioning.

\- You can leave if you want, Clopin. - Esmeralda stated calmly. - But I'm staying.

Clopin's eyes found hers again, and the harsh judgment in them made Esmeralda shiver.

\- You're staying. - he repeated, in a cold, spiteful tone. - What is wrong with you? What happened to you while you were staying here? I have been patient, and supportive… but you haven't been the same since you came back. - he accused, shaking his head. - I don't recognize you. You used to be the defender of the weak and downtrodden… and now look at you! When you get the chance, you choose a life at the fancy Palace,_ is that it?_

Esmeralda was so hurt by his words she was paralyzed, her mouth open in disbelief.

\- You really think that of me? - she asked with her voice cracking.

\- What am I to think, Esmeralda? What could possibly be the reason for you to choose this, over freedom with us? You've betrayed your people! You're betraying me! You're sleeping with the enemy!

\- I'm not sleeping with him! - she defended herself, at the verge of tears.

\- Then what is going on? - Clopin screamed at her, raising his arms in the air, furious.

Esmeralda looked suddenly exhausted. Her heart was broken. She couldn't even understand herself, let alone explain her irrational decisions to someone else. She tried to picture her people leaving the city, and never looking back. She tried to picture herself not going with them, losing her only family. It was almost unbearable. But then, she tried to picture herself actually leaving with them, and never seeing Frollo again, losing him forever now that she had just gotten him back. And that was,_ in fact_, unbearable.

\- Just go, Clopin. - she finally said hoarsely. - This is none of your business.

\- None of my business? Now what happens to you is none of my business? - the gypsy man repeated, outraged. - You ungrateful child! You seem to have forgotten that it was our people who were willing to take you in when you were abandoned, not him!

\- He did the same for Quasimodo.- she pointed out, trying to defend the judge.

\- Oh, you mean that poor boy he keeps locked away in a tower like he's some kind of circus animal?

\- Says the man who mocked him publicly the one time he stepped outside!

\- STOP! - Quasimodo intervened, his face red with shame and anger. - I'm sick of you! I'm sick of all of you! - he declared, looking alternately at both of them with an exasperated expression.- Look, Clopin. If you want to leave, you're right, now is the right time. I honestly don't think Frollo will chase after you. But you can't force her to come with you.- he said, gesturing towards Esmeralda. - If you did, you would be no better than Frollo.

\- Don't you dare compare me to that…

\- Freedom is freedom- Quasimodo interrupted him, raising a hand to stop him from talking. - Even if you don't like what she does with it.

Clopin looked at both of them silently. Esmeralda was giving him a pleading look, begging that he would understand her choice, or at least respect it. But all he could see in her now was a traitor.

\- Are you absolutely sure? - he asked slowly, in a low, grim tone.

\- I am. - she answered, even if her voice and whole body were trembling.

\- So be it. - he sentenced. - Then I guess this is goodbye. - he added coldly.

Esmeralda tried to move towards him, leaning on Quasimodo to take a leap in his direction. But before she could get close, Clopin spat to the ground in her direction, and with a hateful look, he turned his back at her and ran away.

She was frozen in her spot, unable to believe her eyes. Quasimodo was also shocked, and watched her expression trying to know what to say or how to react. He just stroked her back gently, and at the kindness of his touch, Esmeralda broke down crying.

* * *

_What was taking them so long?_ Frollo wondered, restless in bed. Though he still felt weak, he was getting used to being back inside his body, and his stomach was growling. He felt that he wouldn't be fully back to life until he had eaten something, and gotten on his feet. But he still lacked the strength to do so by himself. He wanted Quasimodo to come back, even though, at the same time, he didn't want to face him. He knew the young man would ask him about Esmeralda, and he didn't feel ready to talk about it.

But when the door finally opened, he was shocked to see two people walking in. The same two that had left before.

\- What are you doing? - he asked cautiously.

\- She decided to stay. - Quasimodo explained, helping her get to the armchair by the bed, where she let herself fall down with a sigh of effort.

Frollo was about to protest but Esmeralda was faster.

\- I'm not doing it for you. - she said convincingly. - You made it clear that you don't need my help.

Frollo's mouth closed, but his frown remained.

\- I need to rest. - she explained, very matter-of-factly. - I cannot sleep properly in the floor, at the catacombs. It's hard, and cold, and humid. And there are too many people, too much noise. I was hoping you'd allow me to stay here in my old bedroom, until my foot gets better.

She was trying so hard to put on an innocent face, to not let him see this was a strategy to buy her some time. Frollo was clever and he immediately suspected her intentions, but she was very smart herself, and had presented the situation in a way that he couldn't refuse her petition without appearing ruthless.

\- You can stay here – he finally granted, with a hint of defeat in his voice. - Get the rest you need so you can get better and go back home.

His words stung her, but she tried to remind herself not to jump to conclusions. Even if she couldn't understand what was going on in his mind, even if apparently he wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible… She now knew that there was something else, so she decided to hold on to that, and with the most honest smile she could fake, she said.

\- Thank you for your generosity.

\- You're very welcomed. - he replied, looking at his hands, not wanting his mask of apparent composure to break down in front of her.

She was satisfied and didn't want to push the situation any further either, so she announced:

\- Gentleman, if you don't mind I would like to go to my chamber now.

Quasimodo reacted quickly and helped her get up from the armchair and walk towards the door. He considered asking her why she hadn't mention to Frollo her fight with Clopin, but he figured she didn't want to give them away in case they were planning on escaping the city. However, Frollo would find out sooner or later, when Esmeralda was well enough to walk in a couple of days, and he tried sending her to a no longer existent home.

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, they were all safe, finally. So, after escorting Esmeralda to her chamber and make sure she was comfortable, he went back to Frollo's room, where the judge insisted that he should go back to Notre Dame and get some rest himself, reassuring him they would be fine, and well attended by the servants.

Quasimodo was indeed exhausted as he had never been, so he didn't resist his insistence, and left gladly, after asking Magdalene to bring Frollo some food.

As he waited in his room for the food to arrive, Frollo found himself finally alone. Though he wasn't feeling well yet, an unusual, almost foreign feeling was starting to take over his heart. Despite all his barriers, and all his rational considerations and precautions… he felt joy. Esmeralda was there, and she had chosen to stay voluntarily. Perhaps not everything was lost. Maybe there was hope for him, after all.

He scolded himself for such childish attitude.

But, when he finally managed to get up from bed and saw a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror, he realized he was smiling from ear to ear.


	23. Terms

A week had gone by, and everything was slowly going back to normal.

Frollo had taken a few days off his duties as a judge to fully recover, and he had temporarily assigned his captain of the guard to act on his behalf in any urgent matters that arose.

He didn't know the man well, since he had just come into his service after Phoebus's departure. But he proved himself to be effective and loyal, which allowed Frollo to focus on regaining his strength.

Esmeralda had also been resting for a couple days, but she got bored soon, for her foot healed fast and she was able to walk again if she stepped carefully. Being so impatient, she found it hard to be confined to her chambers most of the time. But Frollo had instructed that the servants should bring him his meals to his room, so she was also eating in her quarters, as there was no point in using the dining room alone.

So, apart from the short walks around the Palace that she was able to take before her foot started protesting, she would just sit by the fire and try to distract herself from the boredom. The only highlight to her day was Frollo's daily visit. He usually showed up briefly at her door after lunch, to check up on her and see how she was doing.

But his tone and words were always distant, though cordial. Everyday, their conversation was a mere exchange of questions about their respective health situation, and them wishing each other to get better. After that, with the excuse of letting her rest, he would quickly leave until next day.

The formality and politeness of it all made Esmeralda sick. She was dying to be able to speak to him authentically, but she didn't know how to do it, for once again Frollo was apparently trying to avoid her as much as possible, and despite Quasimodo's words, she was starting to doubt again if the judge cared for her at all. When she thought about the intimacy they had shared during their respective illnesses, it felt like a dream. Maybe it had been induced by their weakness or fever, and hadn't been real.

She needed more time to figure out what to do. She was terrified that she had made a mistake, turning her back on Clopin and her people to stay by Frollo's side, when he clearly didn't want her there. But at the same time, something inside her, something irrational yet real, told her that there was more to it, and that she should be patient. So, any time Frollo asked her how she was doing, she would magnify her symptoms so he would find it necessary that she remained there longer. She was afraid that he would eventually ask to take a look at her bandaged wound, only to find it healing quickly and becoming just a scar.

But one morning, she woke up to a gentle knock on her door. She rushed to open it, though when she realized it could be Frollo, she slowed down and accentuated her limp. But it wasn't the judge who was waiting on the other side of the door, but the stable boy.

\- Pat! What are you doing here? - she called, but the boy rapidly hushed her.

\- I'm not allowed up here miss! - he explained in a whisper.

\- What is it? - she asked, also lowering her voice.

\- There's someone asking for you. - he said, pointing downstairs.

Esmeralda looked confused. If someone was at the door, why wasn't a servant the one to tell her?

\- Can you come? - Pat asked, looking nervously to both sides of the hall, hoping not to be seen.

\- Yes, of course. - Esmeralda answered, and taking her cape, she followed the boy down the stairs, trying to make little to no sound.

But when they got to the main floor, instead of walking to the door, Pat made a turn towards the courtyard. Esmeralda walked after him, wondering, but she chose not to ask so no one would hear them. When they were finally out in the open, Pat relaxed and slowed down, waiting for her slow steps to catch up to him.

\- Where are we going? - Esmeralda asked at last.

\- Just come and see. - Pat said with an enigmatic smile.

He guided her down the stable's corridor to the small backyard where the crack in the wall had allowed Djali to freely come and go. As she had suspected, the goat was waiting for her there.

\- Oh, you found me! - she exclaimed, leaning to pet Djali's head, while he leaped around her happily.

\- He's very clever.- Pat pointed out. - He's been showing up here since you came back, I think he somehow knew you were in the Palace.

\- My wise friend – she called, with an affectionate smile.

\- But he's not who I wanted you to see. - Pat replied, pointing towards the crack in the wall, and then walking towards it, he yelled – Hey! I brought her, she's here!

Esmeralda looked puzzled at the open space the stones had left behind, and saw a familiar face appearing up there.

\- Esmeralda! - the face called with relief.

\- Dalia? - Esmeralda asked, baffled. - What are you doing here?

The gypsy girl was holding on to the upper edge of the crack with her fingertips, but given the height of the wall, she must have been hanging there with great effort. Esmeralda rushed to help her, grabbing her hands and pulling her up so she could climb the wall and descend at their side. When she reached the ground, she sighed alleviated.

She was fourteen, though she didn't look older than twelve, given her slender body and short constitution. Her long brown hair was tied up in a complex braid, and her caramel cheeks were blushed with the effort. As she dusted of her dress, Esmeralda could see Pat's expression; he was bewitched by the girl's exotic beauty. Esmeralda tried to conceal a smile, and opened her arms to hug the newcomer.

\- How are you? - Dalia asked, lowering her eyes to Esmeralda's foot.

\- I'm fine, as you can see. Nothing can stop me for long. - she answered with a wink.

But Dalia looked troubled, and Esmeralda guessed the girl couldn't understand what was keeping her in the palace if she was feeling better. But there were more concerning matters in her mind right now.

\- How did you find this place? - she asked the girl, pointing towards the opening in the wall.

\- I followed Djali. - Dalia revealed.- I noticed he was missing from time to time and I figured he was coming to visit you somehow.

\- He was – Pat intervened, trying to sound confident – I've been feeding him and taking care of him every time he showed up.

Dalia threw him a quick glance, while Esmeralda gave him a warm smile of gratitude, finding it amusing that Pat was standing so straight, to appear taller. Then, she turned back to the girl.

\- Do you need anything? Why did you came?

Dalia hesitated for a second, as if she was struggling to find the right words. But finally, with a sigh of exasperation, she answered:

\- Clopin asked me to. He told me not to tell you it was him, but… - she shrugged.

Hearing Clopin's name felt like a splash of cold water. She tried to keep a steady face, but so many emotions showed up in her eyes.

\- I don't know what's going on between you two. - Dalia continued. - And he wouldn't tell me. But he said you wouldn't be coming back.

\- I never said never. - Esmeralda clarified, in a defensive tone. - But he said you were leaving the city.

\- Some of us did. - Dalia explained. - When they heard Frollo was so ill, they decided to take the chance to escape somewhere else, were we wouldn't be under his rules.

\- What about you? - Esmeralda asked, though it wasn't the question that was burning inside her throat.

\- My parents and I decided to stay. They say Paris is our home, and that we shouldn't give it up, with or without Frollo. Some others felt the same way, but there's just a handful of us left.

Esmeralda nodded. She knew that her people's need for freedom was equal to their pride. So it made sense to her that they didn't want to relinquish their home, specially now that Frollo's iron fist towards gypsies had softened a little.

It was actually that same pride the one preventing her from asking what she desperately wanted to know. But Dalia was smart and she could see the inquiry in Esmeralda's face.

\- Clopin's still here. He didn't left with the others. - she informed.

\- Oh, okay. - Esmeralda nodded with indifference, but inside she felt a wave of relief. She couldn't stand the thought of never seeing her brother again after that horrible fight. And if he had stayed, maybe that meant he didn't want to leave things like that either.

\- But he told me not to tell you that either. - Dalia confessed.

\- It's fine, I won't tell anyone.- Esmeralda reassured her, while her hopes sunk again. If Clopin didn't want her to know he was there, that meant he had no intention of seeing her again.

\- Anyway… he asked me to come and give you this. - the girl reached into a wicker bag she was carrying at her back, and pulled out Esmeralda's purple blanket.

Esmeralda's eyes teared up. Maybe not everything was lost with Clopin after all. His moving gesture showed that he still cared about her, even if he wasn't ready to admit it yet.

\- Thank you so much Dalia. - Esmeralda said hoarsely, with a gentle smile.

\- You're welcome. - the girl said lightly. - Now, help me get out of here already, this place gives me the creeps. - she asked, getting ready to climb the wall again.

\- Don't you wanna stay and see the horses? - Pat offered quickly, not wanting her to leave so soon.

Dalia threw him a side look, and then she gave Esmeralda a meaningful one. Pat watched the exchange and immediately blushed, ashamed of his obvious behavior.

\- You would like the horses. - Esmeralda added, trying to be supportive.

\- No thank you. I like them better when they're free. - she stated, and started climbing the wall on her own.

Pat rushed to help her, and propelling her feet upwards, he got her to the other side.

\- Thank you!- Dalia's voice said from behind the wall, and then they heard her swift footsteps running away.

Pat was mortified and couldn't look Esmeralda in the eye while they walked back through the corridor to the courtyard.

\- She likes to play it cool – Esmeralda told him, trying to make him feel better . - But I'd bet she was impressed by you.

\- How come? - the young lad asked, with a depressed tone.

\- Well, you're the same age as her, but you're already in charge of the biggest and most important stables in the whole city. That's not something you see everyday, Pat – she explained with admiration.

Her words seemed to reassure him greatly, and he looked at her with gratitude.

\- I'm really glad to see you well, miss. - he confessed wholeheartedly, remembering when he had seen his master and the bell ringer arrive at the palace with Esmeralda unconscious in their arms.

\- I'm glad to be well too. - she said, taking a few small leaps with Djali, playfully.

The sun was shining brightly and she felt that Clopin's gift had taken a burden from her heart, even if he hadn't delivered it himself. She felt light and optimistic, and her cheerful energy was infectious; soon, Pat joined her in playing with the goat, that ran from one to the other, as they pretended to chase it, laughing out loud.

* * *

Esmeralda went up to her room feeling happy and relaxed, and she decided that when Frollo came to visit her later, she would finally address the situation and be honest with him. But as she was making this decision, she saw the judge was already waiting for her at her door. She greeted him with a smile, but his face was emotionless, his look indecipherable.

\- Good morning – she said carefully, not knowing what to expect from him.

\- To you too.- he answered politely.

There was an awkward silence, but just when Esmeralda opened her mouth to say something, Frollo spoke again:

\- I see you're doing much better. - he said, pointing to her foot.

\- Oh… - she mumbled, dissimulating – Yes, I just wanted to take a brief walk.

\- I know. - he replied with a meaningful look. - I was looking through the window and I saw you at the courtyard, with Patrice and… Djali, is it?

Esmeralda gulped, suddenly blushing. If he had saw her, he knew she was perfectly able to walk and even jump. So her farce was over.

\- I'm really glad you healed well. - he stated with honesty.

\- It was all thanks to you. - she said gratefully.

\- Well, it's a good sign you won't be needing my help anymore. I can ask a maid to help you pick up your things and carry them to the Court of Miracles.

Esmeralda was frozen, not knowing what to say. She wanted to protest, but he sounded so firm, so decided, that he left no margin for any kind of argument. So she stood there, mouth opened. He was waiting for her answer.

\- Is that alright? - he insisted, getting uncomfortable.

Finally, she nodded. He nodded back and, walking past her, he said:

\- Farewell, then. Take care of yourself.

\- You too. - she muttered, his back already turned against her. In a few steps, he would disappear behind the corner. - Wait!

\- What is it? - he said, turning his head around.

Esmeralda hesitated.

\- Should I keep reporting to Quasimodo…? - she finally asked.

\- As I said before, that won't be necessary. - Frollo replied calmly. - You kept your word, even when you were hurt. I believe you're proven you are trustworthy. So I trust there will be no more problems coming from the gypsies from now on in this city.

She didn't know whether to feel complimented or insulted, relieved or dissapointed. So she just nodded again, and said:

\- Alright then… I guess I'll… see you around.

Frollo gave her a courtesy nod and turned the corner, to enter his chamber. He closed the door and then leaned his back against it, letting out a sigh.

His composure shattered as his breath accelerated. This time there was no going back. No security clause. She was leaving for good, and he was letting her go without conditions. He was being completely selfless, and he hoped that would finally prove he was able to love another human being unconditionally. Even if that love meant losing her. Because now she was free, it would only be a matter of time until she forgot about him and get back to her life, probably meeting someone else and… No. He couldn't even think about that, or he would go mad again. This time he needed to let her go for real. To surrender his control over the situation. Otherwise it would all have been in vain. This is what God wanted from him, now he knew. True selflessness. This was, at last, the right thing to do.

The door opened with such violence it threw him to the floor.

\- You know what? No! Not again! - Esmeralda stormed into the room, furiously looking around until she saw him laying there, utterly perplexed. Her own expression changed to an astonished one as well.

\- What are you doing? - she asked baffled.

\- What _am I_ doing? - he repeated, irritated.- You were the one that threw me to the floor, why on earth would you irrupt in my room like that?

\- Why were you standing on the door? - she retorted, also annoyed.

Frollo blew exasperated, and he started to get up. Esmeralda rushed to help him, but he refused her help with a prideful expression. She snorted, offended, and took a couple steps back, placing her hands on her hips.

\- Well…? - he asked, with an inviting gesture, as he straightened his chaperon.

Esmeralda hesitated again. The incident had made her lose her determination, and now she felt childish and immature. She thought of turning around and leaving, but then the indignation came back.

\- It's not. Alright, I mean. It's not alright. - she said, gibbering.

\- What is? - he asked, confused.

\- You asked if it was alright. Before. - she clarified, not wanting to say the words.

Frollo doubted for a moment, but he recalled their conversation and understood what she was referring to.

\- So what is the problem? - he asked again, impatiently.

\- It's… - she struggled to find the words. Finally, she dropped her arms, raising her hands to gesticulate. - You did it again! - she accused, looking at him angrily. - Everything has to be on your terms, doesn't it? You decide when and where things happen, or not happen. Every decision made in this city seems to be under your terms! - she paused, because Frollo's expression was turning dark and menacing. But she wasn't going to let him scare her into silence. Not anymore.- But guess what? Everything is_ not_ under your terms. Everyone is _not_ under your terms. And I am definitely **_not_** under your terms! - she declared, and before he could say anything, she decidedly walked the distance between them and kissed him.

Frollo was caught completely off guard, and he almost lost his balance and fell again, but he instinctively grabbed onto her. Seconds ago he had been feeling an increasing anger boiling up in his veins, but suddenly all that fire turned into a different kind of heat. He didn't have time to think, nor he needed to. His body responded on its own.

He passionately grabbed her waist and pulled her body hard against his. She let out a loud moan and her hands reached for the back of his neck, where her fingers clasped onto his hair, softly pulling from it. Her lips were viciously trapping his own, and her tongue was begging an entrance into his mouth, which he gladly allowed.

He was angry at her defiance, but somehow this anger made him want her even more. He could feel her anger as well, in the way she bit his lower lip, and dug her nails into his skin. The mild pain of it only fueled his inner fire, and he felt it concentrating between his legs. She felt it too, and she moved even closer, increasing the pressure in his lower area, which made him gasp.

Then, she stopped all of a sudden, retiring her face to look at him. His lips were left hanging there, in the middle of a kiss, and he looked at her puzzled. She lowered her hands from his neck and rested them on his chest.

\- You stated your terms before. - she whispered. - Now you know mine. Consider them and let me know what you want. - she said, staring into his eyes for a couple of seconds, and then pulling away.

Frollo was still catching his breath when she closed the door behind her.


	24. The Emissary

He needed to get out. Move. Do something. He just couldn't think, he couldn't stay in the room she had just left.

So he decided to grab his lunch and take it to the cathedral, to see Quasimodo, who he hadn't visited since he had been taking care of him at the Palace a week ago.

When he climbed the ladder to Quasimodo's quarters, the young man was very surprised to see him.

\- Master! I wasn't expecting you! - he exclaimed, racing to help him, grabbing the basket from his hand. - The archdeacon said you were taking the week off.

\- I am. - Frollo replied.- But I wanted to see how you were doing.

\- I'm great, how are you? Are you feeling better?

\- Much better, thank you. - Frollo said, though Quasimodo could see that he was restlessly hiding something, but he didn't ask.

They sat at the table, and Quasimodo was delighted to see the delicacies Frollo had brought to share with him. They started eating, briefly commenting on the nice weather in between bites. As the minutes went by, it became clearer that Frollo's mind wasn't there. Quasimodo had a pretty decent guess on where it could be, but he didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. Eventually, he couldn't take the uncertainty anymore.

\- So… how's Esmeralda doing? - he asked casually, biting on a piece of bread.

Frollo's eyes pierced his own like a hawk, and Quasimodo swallowed slowly, regretting his curiosity. But the judge didn't seem mad. He just seemed very cautious and alert.

\- She is well. - he cleared his throat, and then, looking down at his plate he informed – In fact, she's able to walk perfectly fine already, so earlier I told her I would send someone to help her collect her things and take them home.

Quasimodo chocked on his food. He started coughing violently, and Frollo got up from his chair to help him, softly hitting his back and pouring him a glass of water. Quasimodo drank it, and still with his face red, he said:

\- You did _what_?

Frollo frowned, not understanding what all the fuss was about. He repeated his words slowly:

\- I said I told her that I would send someone…

\- I heard what you said! - Quasimodo replied with irritation, still coughing. He drank some more water while Frollo stared at him, shocked at Quasimodo's tone. - I meant, _why_ would you do that?

\- Send her home? - Frollo asked, still not following. - That's what we had agreed on, she would stay as a guest to get some proper rest so she could return home safely. She's healed now, so…

Quasimodo interrupted him again.

\- But she has no home to return to! Where did you expect her to go? You're throwing her out to the streets?

\- What do you mean? - Frollo inquired, getting angry and frustrated himself.

Quasimodo lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.

\- She didn't tell you? - he asked, shaking his head.

\- Tell me what? Explain yourself already, boy!

Quasimodo got up from his chair, putting his napkin on the table, and began pacing restlessly around the room, trying to find the words.

\- When you were… so ill. Remember Clopin came looking for her at the palace?

Frollo nodded, listening carefully.

\- Esmeralda told him she had decided to stay at the Palace. Clopin didn't take it well.

\- Why not? - Frollo asked intrigued. - Didn't he want her to get better?

Quasimodo grunted with exasperation, hitting his face with his palm.

\- She wasn't staying to rest, you…! - he clarified, almost insulting the judge in his frustration. - She was staying for _you_! Because she was worried about _you_! Her foot was just an excuse because you had just said you didn't need any help! I can't believe I have to explain this. You two are just the same. - he declared, falling back into his chair with a sigh.

Frollo was staring at the table, his words still sounding inside his head, his mind trying to grasp their implications. Her angry kiss came back to his memory, and suddenly he understood what she had been angry about. How could have he not seen it? That explained why she was apparently taking so long to heal. And he had just sent her away the moment he saw her better. Quasimodo may not have dared to insult him, but he insulted himself. What an idiot he was.

\- But… - he suddenly remembered. - That doesn't justify why you said she has no home to return to.

\- Things with Clopin got very ugly. - Quasimodo explained softly. - He basically gave her a choice between them and you.

\- And she chose…? - Frollo couldn't even pronounce the words, he couldn't believe it.

\- Yes. - Quasimodo nodded meaningfully. - Clopin called her a traitor and told her they were leaving the city, given that you were unable to chase after them at the time.

\- They left? - Frollo asked in shock.

\- Not all of them. I've seen some of them, looking from the terrace. And I believe I saw Clopin's puppeteer caravan a couple days ago. But I haven't seen many of them these past few days… Some must have left.

\- That explains why the captain said everything was quiet. - Frollo mumbled to himself.

He was expecting to feel rage about this piece of news, like he did with everything related to gypsies. But to his own surprise, he realized he barely cared. In fact, if most of them had left the city, that could be a good thing for all. In the past, he would have gotten mad that they had escape his control, taking advantage of his moment of weakness. He would have chased after them, to teach them a lesson. But none of that mattered to him right now. He just wanted to get back to the palace and talk to Esmeralda before she got tired of waiting for his answer.

\- Thank you for telling me this. - he said to Quasimodo with honest gratitude.

\- You're welcome. - he answered, but he seemed upset. After hesitating for a second, he chose to speak his mind. - But you should start talking to each other. Things would be much easier if you did, instead of relying on me to fill in the gaps that your stubborn prides prevent you to fill. Or else, you're doomed to always misinterpreting each other.

Frollo was surprised at the bluntness Quasimodo was displaying lately. The lad had always been fearful around him, afraid of upsetting him the slightest. But now here he was, giving him life advice, frustrated at his ineptitude. Frollo didn't know whether to feel insulted or amused by his change of attitude. But then something occurred to him, that maybe there was another reason that this particular subject was bothering him so much. _Why hadn't he think about this before? _

\- Quasimodo – he said, tentatively – Forgive me if I have put you in a difficult position. It didn't occur to me that your own feelings may have made it hard for you to stand in the middle of… whatever's going on between Esmeralda and myself.

Quasimodo blushed immediately, embarrassed. He opened his mouth to answer, to try to discard those words and conceal his shame, but Frollo's gaze was so intense that he felt the judge could see right through him. He sighed heavily, giving up.

\- Look… - he began to explain, without looking Frollo in the face. - Esmeralda was the first stranger to show me kindness. She defended me even when you didn't, when everyone was mocking me and they tied me to that wheel… - his voice became hoarse.

Frollo felt a surge of guilt rushing into his heart, but he said nothing, allowing Quasimodo to continue.

\- She was also the first person I spoke with that wasn't you or a priest. - he pointed out with a gesture. - And so, for a moment, I thought maybe she was the cure to my loneliness. The proof that someone could love me.

In that moment, Frollo felt a knot burning in his throat, with the words _" But I love you"_ stuck in it. But he had never said those words out loud to anyone in his life, and he was completely unable to do it now. So again, he said nothing, and just kept listening.

\- And I was right, you know? Meeting her has changed my life, and now I don't feel so alone. She just doesn't love me in that way, and I'm okay with that now. I'm not even sure, to be honest, that I ever loved her like that either. Not after what I've seen.

\- What do you mean? - Frollo asked in a low tone.

Quasimodo looked at him, unsure if the judge would be offended if he spoke of the memory that was playing in his mind. But Frollo seemed genuinely interested in hearing what he had to say.

\- Remember when we were sitting in the outside corridor… that night? - he asked cautiously, giving Frollo a meaningful look.

Frollo felt his cheeks reddening as he recalled his breakdown in Quasimodo's arms. He nodded silently, hoping the lad would get to the point fast and he could bury those memories again.

\- I realized then that I've never felt such an intense force inside of me, that would lead me to that kind of pain. And when you were praying, your selflessness… I realized that when I thought I was in love with Esmeralda, I actually was in love with love itself, with being loved myself. It really wasn't about her. And then, when we thought you were dying, and I saw her, sick as she was herself, never leaving your side for a second… How she fought for you, calling you back… It's just crystal clear to me that you belong to each other. There's no trace of romantic love in me towards her after that. I only wish I can find that someday for myself too.

Frollo was deeply moved by his words. He wanted to comfort him, reassure him that if he, a cold, ruthless old man, had been found worthy of love, surely he, who had a much warmer, bigger heart, would be too, eventually. But again, his words were stuck in his throat, and he was completely unable to phrase his feelings. He readjusted himself in the chair, struggling to find something to say. Quasimodo noticed his discomfort, and with a small snort, he shook his head at the man's inability to display any kind of affection.

\- But there's something you can do for me. - he told the judge, who looked at him curiously.- You've been given a second chance. Don't ruin it again.

* * *

Frollo spurred his horse, eager to get to the Palace. He was rehearsing the words he would tell Esmeralda inside his mind. He would tell her what Quasimodo had said about her fight with Clopin and her not having a home anymore, and he would make sure she knew that as long as he lived, she would never be homeless or defenseless in this world. He would tell her that he definitely agreed with her terms. And, though the thought made him feel so nervous and insecure, he would return her kiss. He was dying to have her in front of him already.

But apparently, fate had other plans.

When he got to the Palace's door, he noticed a big carriage with six white horses pulling from it, and his soldiers forming two rows to salute whoever was coming out of it.

Frollo pointed his horse towards the door, irritated. _Who was this, presenting themselves unannounced at his home?_

\- Oh, Minister Frollo! - the unknown man saluted him loudly. - I didn't realize you'd be out. I was informed you were taking a few days off duty for medical reasons.

\- I am. - Frollo stated firmly, not getting off his horse so he would have the advantage of the height. Something told him to be cautious around the visitor. - I don't think I've had the pleasure. - he indicated, asking for an identification.

\- Forgive my manners, minister. My name is Gaspard Lefebvre. I come as an emissary from Our Majesty, the King.

Frollo felt his stomach twist, though he couldn't explain why, he just got a bad feeling that these were bad news.

\- Be welcome into my home, Mr Lefebvre. - he said formally, gesturing towards the door to invite the man inside.

\- Thank you, minister, it's been a long journey. I assume you're workers will take the best care of my horses.

\- Of course. - Frollo replied, offended by the implications.

He rode to the back entrance, and entered the courtyard, where Pat and the other stable workers were getting ready to receive the incoming animals. He left his horse with Pat, and rushed to the inside of the palace to change into his most elegant robes. He quickly climbed the stairs, wondering what the unexpected visit could be about. He was so focused looking at the steps not to miss any, that he didn't see Esmeralda standing at the top of them, and he nearly crashed into her.

\- Excuse me! - he said, before realizing it was the gypsy.

\- Where's the fire? - she joked, grabbing his arm so he wouldn't lose his balance.

\- Oh… - Frollo's mind went blank when he saw her face so close to his again. - Sorry, I was just… I need to change my clothes. - he mumbled.

\- What's going on? - she asked, noticing the worry in his expression.- I heard noise downstairs.

\- A visitor arrived unexpected. - Frollo answered, still a bit lost into the green depths of her eyes.

\- Who is it? - she inquired, curious.

\- He's an emissary, from the King.

Esmeralda looked impressed, and she took a step back, releasing his arm.

\- You shouldn't keep him waiting then. - she said politely.

\- Right, ahm… - Frollo hesitated, and she raised an eyebrow at him, expectantly. - I have to go now, but please… - he lowered his voice to a velvet whisper - Don't leave. I'll come find you later. Just stay.

Esmeralda was surprised at his sudden change of attitude, but she immediately smiled at him and nodded.

\- I'll be right here. - she promised.

\- Good. - Frollo said, with a hint of a smile as well, and then he ran off to his chambers.

* * *

**A/N: From what I've gathered, the political situation in France at the time of this story was pretty complicated. So I decided to take a creative license when referring to that kind of matters, since my interest in this story is on its characters and not the historical accuracy. So I'm sorry if any of the readers are history fans, I hope you can understand! ;) **

**Also, thank you for your reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying the story as much as I am! I'm loving to dig into Frollo and Esmeralda's characters, and I have so much in store for them ;) So keep letting me know what you think! Thank you :) **


	25. Jealousy

Frollo met Gaspard Lefebvre at the audience hall, a solemn room with dark walls and tall narrow glass windows. The emissary was waiting for him by the fireplace, warming up his hands while a servant poured him a cup of red wine.

\- Forgive my tardiness, Mr Lefebvre. - the judge said formally when he entered the room.- If I had knew you were coming I would have given you a proper welcome. - he added, with a subtle remark.

Gaspard Lefebvre was a cunning man. He was used to the usual hidden intentions behind every apparently polite conversation that he had when acting as an emissary. He was an artist in the diplomacy field, and knew how to get what he wanted without giving away his strategies to do so. He had never met Frollo before, but had heard of him and knew he was an intelligent man himself. So this promised to be an interesting weekend, he thought to himself.

\- Of course, minister. As I said, it didn't occur to me that I may not find you here, given that I was informed of your medical condition. - he pointed out, striking back.

\- I had a personal matter that couldn't wait. - Frollo explained calmly.

\- It's good to see you're well enough to at least take care of such things. Let's drink to that. - Gaspard said, rising his cup in a respectful gesture.

Frollo took the cup that the servant was offering him, but he didn't drink. He preferred to stay sharp and sober until he knew what was truly going on.

\- So… - he said carefully, after the emissary had had the opportunity to taste his expensive wine. - To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Mr Lefebvre.

Gaspard evaluated Frollo's expression, noticing the subtle wrinkles on his forehead, and also the judge's effort to appeared calmed. He took pleasure in taking his time to respond, knowing the uncertainty would only make it harder for Frollo to keep his composure.

\- Well, you see… Your Majesty is very fond of you, as I'm sure you're aware. - he began, rejoicing in the elaborated language. - So he was naturally very concerned when certain rumors arose in court during the course of the last few weeks.

Frollo stiffened visibly, cursing at himself for his lack of self control when he saw Gaspard noticing. The emissary smiled, and condescendingly reassured him:

\- Oh, you mustn't worry, Your Honor. The King is a wise, pious man, who knows better than to engage in such distasteful courtesan gossiping.

\- Of course.- Frollo nodded, tense.

\- However… - the emissary continued, making a long pause. - Your Majesty's concerns deepened when the Bishop himself visited the royal palace two weeks ago. It appears that he had received a disturbing missive from Notre Dame's archdeacon, in which the second confessed his preoccupation for Judge Claude Frollo's erratic behavior.

Gaspard said those words casually, as if he was commenting on some other man's situation and not his own.

Frollo's teeth gritted, but he forced himself to inhale slowly and answer, in the most disengaged tone possible:

\- I seem to recall that was an honest misunderstanding. The archdeacon himself assured me that he would immediately correct the mistake.

\- That's precisely what happened. - Gaspard affirmed. - The Bishop showed the King a second letter in which the archdeacon clarified that the situation had been properly resolved and apologized for any misinterpretations that could have arisen.

Frollo raised his eyebrow, suspecting that wasn't the end of the story. Indeed, the emissary cleared his throat, and after another sip of wine he continued.

\- But the Bishop was still worried about that first alarming letter, you see. He didn't find the archdeacon's posterior explanations, which included words such as "evil spell", convincing enough. So he came to present the King his concerns.

\- I'm certain Your Majesty reassured him of my so long proved trustworthiness. - Frollo affirmed firmly, though he felt nauseous inside.

\- Indeed, minister. - Lefebvre conceded.- Nevertheless, after considering it carefully, the King found it suitable to send an emissary, your humble servant – he said taking a hand to his heart and bowing slightly – to confirm everything was in order. It was just when I was about to start my journey, that we got word that you were feeling unwell and had designated your Captain of the Guard to act on your behalf. So Your Majesty urged me to come to Paris and learn first hand what was going on.

\- I see. - Frollo replied in a low tone. Though Lefebvre had phrased it all as a display of caring concern, he knew better than to believe he had honest intentions. So he figured the sooner he got rid of the emissary, the better. - Well, as you can obviously see, I'm feeling much better. It was a bad set of circumstances that got me ill, but I had a proper rest and I'm now ready to resume my duties as Minister of Justice. However, if you have any concern left unaddressed, allow me to escort you to Notre Dame, where you'll be able to hear from the archdeacon yourself.

\- I don't think that will be necessary. It's evident that it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding, and that you're in perfectly good shape to resume your activities.

\- Wonderful.- said Frollo, with a small sigh of relief.

\- However… - Gaspard added, again making a long pause, taking another sip of wine. Frollo fought the sudden urge to strangle the man with his bare hands, and instead gave him a cold, inquiring smile. - Given the long journey I just made to get here, I presume I can count on your hospitality for the weekend, before heading back to the royal court?

Frollo was clearly uncomfortable, but he was also against the wall.

\- Of course.- he granted. - Any member of the king's court is always welcomed at my humble home. - he stated, with a slight head bow.

\- I really appreciate your generosity, Your Honor. - Gaspard nodded back, before casually adding with an innocent smile- I'll very much enjoy the opportunity to learn more about you.

* * *

\- I don't like what they do with their hair.- confessed Esmeralda, pointing towards the white horse mane, that was squeezed into tight square topknots to show the horse's elegant neck.

\- It's easier like that – Pat explained by her side, observing the horses over the stable fence- so it doesn't get dirty or messy.

\- I understand but it's so… unnatural. I prefer this. - she replied, walking towards Snowball, Frollo's huge black horse, that was eating peacefully inside his box.

The beast had learned to trust her presence, and he usually allowed her to come near. She rubbed his muzzle affectionately, and then she combed his long, shiny black hair with her fingers. She knew Pat spent almost an hour every day brushing it so it didn't get tangled. When her fingers clasped at the hair roots, she suddenly recalled doing the same thing with his owner earlier that day. The image sent a tingling to her lips, and a heated feeling to her belly. She placed her forehead on the horse's warm neck, closing her eyes and trying to soothe the unexpected rush of adrenaline in her veins.

\- He must really trust you to let you do that.- an unfamiliar voice pointed out.

Esmeralda turned around, startled, to find an unknown man staring at her from the wooden panel.

He was tall, though not as tall as Frollo. He was wearing garment clothes, with a thick belt and a golden buckle. His buttons were also made of gold. His black hair matched the black goatee, and made a heavy contrast with his light blue eyes, sharp and calculating.

\- You must be the King's emissary. - Esmeralda guessed, with a small reverence.

The man laughed at her curtsy:

\- Oh, I'm not nobility or in any position deserving of such an honor, my lady. - he clarified, before adding with a crooked smile: - Yet.

Esmeralda returned his smile, uncomfortably.

\- But I am indeed the King's emissary. - he said, taking a hand to his heart. - Gaspard Lefebvre, at your service.

\- Esmeralda – she introduced herself with a brief waving of her hand. She didn't know what the man knew about her, or what Frollo had told him, so she decided to be discreet and reveal no further information.

The man's obligated courtesy prevented him from asking any further either, though she could tell he was very curious about her. She recognized the familiar look in his eyes, as he took a full view of her figure. She felt scrutinized and she didn't like it at all.

\- Pleasure to meet you, Esmeralda. - the emissary said, slowly pronouncing her name, as in savoring each syllable.

\- You too. - she said briefly. - But I should be on my way now. - she informed, and walked towards the door.

She had expected the man to remove himself from the entrance, but Lefebvre only moved aside slightly, leaving a small space for her to pass.

She gave him an inquiring look, that he answered with another crooked smile, keeping his position. So she waked past him, trying to press her body against the wood post and not touching the man. But when she thought she was on the clear, he suddenly took her hand and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles, keeping his eyes fixated upon hers. She felt a disgusting shiver down her spine, and had to fight hard the urge to pull away violently and leave running. There was something about that man that unsettled her deeply.

He finally let go of her hand, and with a brief cold smile, Esmeralda turned her back on him and rushed to the palace. But she could hear Gaspard's last words to her:

\- I hope I'll be seeing you again soon!

* * *

When she entered her chambers, she was decided to take a full bath, to wash of the nasty feeling her encounter with the emissary had left behind in her.

But, to her surprise, Frollo was waiting for her inside.

\- Oh! Hello! - she said, baffled.

\- I thought you were gone. - Frollo declared, gesturing around the empty room, and she could hear the anxiety in his voice.

\- No, of course not! I told you I'd be here. I was just at the stables. - she explained quickly.

\- Alright. - he responded, relaxing a little, and taking off his chaperon to put it on her table. He seemed worried.

\- Are you okay? - she asked carefully.

\- Hmm… not really. - he confessed, grabbing the bridge of his nose and rubbing it.

\- It's that man, isn't it? The emissary. - she guessed.

\- Have you seen him? - Frollo asked, suddenly looking at her alarmed.

\- I just ran into him at the courtyard. Don't worry, we barely spoke. He just knows my name. - she reassured him.

\- Did he tell you anything? - Frollo inquired restless.

\- No… - she answered, recalling the unsettling feeling the man had given her. - But you shouldn't trust him.

\- I know that much. - Frollo admitted, grumpily.

\- Why is he here? - she asked the judge, slowly walking towards him to try to offer her support.

\- I'm not sure. He said he's here to assess the situation after the fire episodes… on behalf of the King, who's allegedly worried about my mental wellbeing.

\- I see… - said Esmeralda carefully, knowing that it was a very delicate subject for them to discuss.

\- But I'm afraid that's not all he's up to. - Frollo confessed. - He said he would stay for the weekend, so I'll have to be extra careful the next couple of days. I'm sure he will be on the watch for any kind of misstep on my side.

\- I think so too – Esmeralda agreed. - So I guess you have a lot on your mind right now. - she suggested, offering him an out from the question she had left hanging in the air that morning.

\- Some things are crystal clear. - Frollo replied, shaking his head and giving her a meaningful look. - But I'd appreciate if we can wait until the emissary is gone to have that conversation.

\- Of course.- Esmeralda conceded. - I'll make myself invisible and leave you to it. Good luck.

\- Actually...- Frollo said, hesitating. - I was wondering if you would join us tonight at the dining room. I think your presence there will help me to keep my composure if he tries to put pressure on me.

\- Oh – she exclaimed, surprised. - What happened to the lack of manners and all that whole_ inappropriateness_ for formal dinners? - she asked, with a hint of resentment.

\- Well… I'm sure you can withstand the using of shoes for one night, can't you?

She frowned at him, even if she was almost sure that he was just teasing her. But he noticed her change of mood, and quickly affirmed:

\- I would be very honored to see you tonight, if you decide to join us.

\- Fine. - she yielded. - I'll start getting ready now, given the effort I will probably have to put into it. - she announced sarcastically.

Frollo chuckled briefly, and with a gentle nod, he left the room, suddenly feeling much better.

* * *

When Claude Frollo saw Esmeralda descending the stairs into the main hall, where he and Gaspard Lefebvre were waiting for her, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

She was wearing a breathtaking red dress, one of the few he had had tailored for her when she first stayed at the palace, but that she never got to wear, and so he had never seen. It resembled so much the one she had been wearing when they first met at the festival. She was also wearing the gold ornaments and ruby necklace she wore that day, except for the tiara. This time, her hair was pulled from her face, and her raven curls formed a cascade down her shoulders and back. She looked stunning, and Frollo felt his mouth go dry.

Luckily for him, the King's emissary didn't notice his fascination, for he was bewitched himself with the gypsy's beauty. He took a step forward to get to the end of the stairs at the same time she did and promptly offered her his arm.

\- What a lovely attire you have chosen for the night, my lady. - he complimented her, tilting his head to get a better look at her body.

She smiled politely, though Frollo noticed her lips tightening tensely. She had no remedy but to take the arm she was offered, and as soon as she placed her hand on Gaspard's forearm, his other hand clasped hers like a bear claw.

\- You should sit by my side at the dinner table – the emissary stated – so we don't separate our matching outfits – he said with a wink, pointing to his also red and golden clothes. - Our Minister's attire is of course much more formal and classic, for he is surely above any _modern_ ostentation. - he concluded, intending it to sound as a compliment while subtly but clearly remarking the age difference between himself and the judge.

Frollo got the hidden meaning and rolled his eyes at Lefebvre's back, though he couldn't help but feel a pinch of insecurity when he saw the younger man walking with Esmeralda by his side.

They entered the dining room and Frollo and Lefebvre sat across each other, each one on one of the presiding ends of the long table. Esmeralda headed to sit in the middle, though Gaspard moved her chair clearly to his end when he helped her sit down.

Frollo wasn't sure of the extent in which he did all of this to spite him, or if he was genuinely interested in Esmeralda, though given the lustful looks he was dedicating her, he feared both motivations were strong.

\- So – Gaspard said, with his eyes fixed on her – I didn't catch a last name when we met earlier.

Frollo swallowed heavily; the interrogating had begun sooner than expected. But Esmeralda seemed relaxed as she answered.

\- Oh, I'm so sorry! I was just so startled to see you there… I would have never expected such an elegant man to be around the stables, you see? - she pointed out, throwing him a flirtatious smile.

Frollo felt he had just been slapped, but the shock gave way to the understanding. She was deflecting Lefebvre's attention, and it was working.

\- Well, I wanted to make sure the King's horses were treated properly. Each one is probably worth more than the rest of your stable horses together.

Esmeralda gasped with fake admiration, and from his end of the table, Frollo could see the emissary's chest swelling with pride.

\- But what was such a delicate lady as yourself doing down there, is what I'm wondering. - Gaspard inquired with a gentle head bow in her direction.

\- I wanted to make sure personally that everything was well disposed for your animals, of course. - she responded softly.

\- You're such an attentive hostess. - Gaspard flattered her, and she covered her lips with her fingertips as she blushed.

\- Actually, Esmeralda is just a temporary guest at the Palace, such as yourself. - Frollo interrupted their cloying exchange.

Esmeralda threw him a killing look, but he pretended not to see it. At that moment the servants came in carrying the food trails, and they started filling up their plates. Frollo seized the opportunity and changed the subject.

\- So, tell us, Mr Lefebvre, how's life at the King's court?

\- Well, you surely remember from the time you spent there years ago – he said, remarking the last words- There's always something going on, some event or social gathering, some important visitor… Life at the royal palace is not for the faint-hearted. I'm sure you prefer your tranquility and quiet here. - he said to the judge, with an innocent smile.

Esmeralda watched Frollo's fists clenching and she quickly intervened.

\- How fascinating! - she said in a high voice. - Please, tell us more about those elegant gatherings. - she begged, briefly touching his hand.

The man's attention was fully back to her, as he started to describe the dances and dinner parties that took place at the King's palace.

\- I bet you're very requested among courtesan maidens. The emissary of the King himself… how is it you haven't married? - Esmeralda asked, faking surprise.

\- Well, as you can see I'm a very busy man. - Gaspard explained proudly. - I don't have time for romance or courting. Though… - he slowed down, lowering his voice and staring at her deeply. - that of course could change if I found the right woman.

She chuckled naively and looked down to her plate.

Frollo hadn't touched his food. He was unable to eat. As he observed the two people in front of him interacting, he felt he was going to be sick any moment.

\- Have you asked our honorable host that same question? - Lefebvre inquired maliciously. - From what I've heard, it's certainly a novelty for him to enjoy the female company at his palace like this.

\- I'm sure the King informed you that I took a vow of chastity with the church when I accepted my position. - Frollo replied coldly.

It was the first time Esmeralda had heard about this, and she couldn't hide her surprise, as recent events came back to her memory.

\- Certainly honorable – Gaspard conceded with a head inclination. - I myself don't think I could be able to refrain from admiring such wondrous beauty as the one found in female creatures. But I guess the mortal instincts get easier to tame with… _experience_. - he added, though it was evident that the word he was going for was "age".

\- It's not hard once you realize the value of purity of mind in performing a _useful_ service to the crown. - Frollo stroke back.

\- I, for one, find well traveled men fascinating.- Esmeralda intervened. - Their open-mindedness is such an attractive quality. - she pointed out.

Frollo felt the sting hiding in her words, and he looked at her surprised and hurt. But her eyes were fixed on the emissary's face, as he kept the conversation going.

\- To be honest, it's really nice to be back in Paris. I haven't set foot in this city for so long. Maybe tomorrow we could all take a tour and you can show me how it has changed over the years?

\- That would be ...- Esmeralda started, but Frollo interrupted her.

\- Our elegant companion wouldn't dare to bring it up, but she's here resting from a recent injury she suffered on an accident. As her acting physician, I do not recommend that she goes on any tour while still on the healing process.

\- Oh, forgive me, of course not. - Lefebvre quickly responded, grabbing Esmeralda's hand over the table. - I wouldn't dream of suggesting anything that puts a risk to your wellbeing.

She smiled tensely, and nodded at him, before throwing Frollo a dark side glance.

\- Would it be unrecommended for her to have some wine to accompany this delicious dinner? - he asked Frollo, pointing towards her glass of water.

Frollo knew Esmeralda didn't like the taste of wine, so he was surprised to hear her say:

\- I'm sure it would be just fine.

Gaspard smiled gladly, and gestured a servant to pour her a cup. She took a sip of it and smiled at the emissary.

The rest of the dinner consisted on Lefebvre bragging about his courtesan life and Esmeralda flattering his already swollen ego, while Frollo managed to sneak it subtle but meaningful remarks, that were answered by equally sly ones from the emissary.

When they finally finished eating and got up from the table, Frollo felt as if the room was spinning around his head. There were so many mixed emotions, and he couldn't tell which ones were real and which ones were a result of his paranoia. He just wanted to be alone to think clearly.

The three of them walked to the main hall, with Esmeralda hanging again from Gaspard's arm, only this time she was clinging more to him due to her slightly inebriated state, which the emissary seemed to found so pleasing.

Lefebvre's chambers were in the main floor, so he walked her to the stairs and took her hand to plant a kiss on it.

\- This has been a lovely evening, my lady.

\- Indeed. - she answered with a warm smile.

\- We must thank our generous host for it. - Gaspard said, bowing towards Frollo.

\- It's the least I can do. - Frollo answered politely, though his teeth were gritted.- I hope you find your chamber comfortable.

\- I most certainly will. - Lefebvre nodded. - We should go now, get a good night of sleep for our tour of the city tomorrow.

\- So be it. - Frollo made a gentle head bow and headed to the stairs.

As Lefebvre kissed her hand again and left down the hallway, Esmeralda rushed to follow the judge up the stairs, but he was climbing incredibly fast and showed no intention of waiting for her. She struggled to keep up with his quick pace, but her foot protested, and her dizzy state forced her to slow down and grab the railing. When she finally arrived to the top floor, it was just in time to see Frollo's robes disappear behind his door, which he shut close loudly.

She stood there, unsure what to do. She felt confused and angry, and after a few seconds, she also headed for her chamber, cursing internally at that incomprehensible man.


	26. Dark Fire

_ You, darkness, that I come from_  
_ I love you more than all the fires_  
_ that fence in the world,_  
_ for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone_  
_ and then no one outside learns of you._

_ But the darkness pulls in everything-_  
_ shapes and fires, animals and myself,_  
_ how easily it gathers them! -_  
_ powers and people-_

_ and then, it is possible a great presence is moving near me._

_ I have faith in nights._

_(Rainer Maria Rilke)_

Frollo was once again contemplating the fireplace, sunken in his armchair in front of it. The soft crackling of the burning trunks helped him soothe his racing mind, though it did nothing for his heavy heart.

He had experienced so many emotions in one single day, he wasn't used to processing that much. First, the despair of letting Esmeralda go without any guarantees. Then, the unexpected excitation when she had kissed him and made her intentions clear, followed by the hope and determination that Quasimodo's words had insufflated him. And then, the deep unsettling concern about the King's emissary, and the sickening bitterness of watching him interact with Esmeralda during dinner. It was just too much.

He couldn't understand what game Esmeralda was playing. And he was starting to feel like maybe that's all it was for her. A game. Trying to prove that she, a mere gypsy, could subdue the mighty judge of Paris. Maybe Quasimodo was wrong. Maybe he was the only one with real feelings, and she was just playing a seduction game. He didn't want to believe that, but again, hadn't she just been with Phoebus not so long ago? What were the chances that she had fallen in love twice, with two completely different men, in such short time? What if she was now moving on to the next, taking up a new challenge, this time seducing a member of the court?

These dark, relentless thoughts flooded his mind and he started to feel dangerously similar to how he had felt after the Tupsy Turvy. Only this time, all that consuming paranoia wasn't turning into burning rage, but instead, a dense fog that plunged him into the darkest pit of sorrow.

If it turned out Esmeralda didn't want him, he knew that would destroy him forever. All he had done, all his efforts, coming back from the dead… it would all have been for nothing. And if he also lost his position as Minister of Justice at the hands of that conspiring emissary, then he would have absolutely nothing left. He felt so tired and weak, with no will to fight. Maybe he wasn't suitable to be a judge anymore, or a man anymore. Maybe he was just utterly worthless after all.

An imperceptible knock at his door brought him back to the present. He didn't know how long it had been; it could have been five minutes or two hours. The fire always had that effect on him, plunging him into some kind of timeless trance.

But when Esmeralda opened the door, she was still wearing her dinner attire, so it couldn't have been long.

\- Can I come in? - she asked in a whisper.

\- As you wish. - Frollo responded, looking back at the fireplace, though he could see her by the corner of his eye, coming closer and grabbing another chair to place it in front of the fireplace, at a safe distance from his.

\- I couldn't go to bed. - she began to explain softly. - I kept hearing footsteps down the hall and thinking it was Gaspard coming to my room.

\- Would that be a problem? - Frollo asked bitterly.

\- Excuse me? - she replied shocked.

\- I'm just saying… you didn't seem too distressed in his proximity before.

Esmeralda leaned forward in her chair, trying to catch his eye, but Frollo was set on not looking away from the flames.

\- Are you serious right now? - she asked, furious. - Frollo! - she called, when she saw he wasn't reacting. Finally, the man turned his gaze at her. It was a dark, menacing one, but she could see past it, deeper into the underlying insecurity and hurt the man was feeling. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and lowered her tone. - Couldn't you tell I was faking it?

\- Why would you feel the need to do so? - Frollo inquired accusingly.

\- I was trying to protect you! - she snapped. Frollo frowned, not following. Esmeralda sighed exasperated. - Didn't you notice that he hasn't asked a single compromising question during the whole evening? He barely even noticed you there! The first day of his stay here is over and he has nothing on you! I was just trying to distract the man, for God's sake. - she explained, as if it was obvious.

Frollo looked down, embarrassed but still doubtful. Part of him knew that her words were true, and he had seen with his own eyes the underlying tension in Esmeralda's fake smiles during dinner… at least, during the first part of it. But once the wine came into play, her tension had dissipated and he would have sworn she was actually enjoying herself.

\- You should be thanking me. - Esmeralda pointed out, annoyed. - It hasn't been easy for me to play along with his clingy ways.

\- Hasn't it though? He's an attractive and powerful man.

\- I'm glad you fancy him that much- she said acidly. - But I told you this afternoon that I didn't like him from the start. Though what would I know? - she asked, her tone darkening. - I'm just a stupid woman who can't decide for herself and definitely doesn't belong here, right?

\- I never said that. - Frollo pointed out coldly.

\- Oh, but you did! You made sure he knew I was just a _temporarily guest_ at your palace. - she replied. - And you took the decision for me about tomorrow as if my opinion didn't count at all!

\- I was the one trying to protect_ you_ – Frollo snapped. He was livid with rage as he got up from his armchair and walked towards her with a pointing finger.- I didn't want him setting you as his goal! That would put you in a very dangerous position!

Esmeralda snorted loudly, getting up from her chair as well and facing the judge, though she hated the fact that the man's height situated him over her.

\- So you were doing me a favor, is it so? - she laughed bitterly – You weren't just belittling me so he wouldn't find me interesting, and you could have me all to yourself?

Frollo turned his back at her, panting offended as he took a few steps away. But Esmeralda promptly followed him.

\- Admit it! Admit you didn't just do it for me! Admit you were jealous! - she demanded.

Frollo turned around violently, and she crashed into him.

\- Very well… - Frollo said in a deadly low tone, staring deeply into her glowing eyes - I'll admit that, if you admit that you weren't just trying to protect me. You were enjoying flirting with him.

Esmeralda froze. They stared at each other in silence, only the sound of the crackling fire filling the dense, wordless space between them. Frollo took her silence as an admission of guilt, and with a bitter, victorious smug grin, he turned around and sat back into his armchair.

She wasn't moving at all. Her eyes were fixated on the wall, her back turned at him. As the seconds went by, Frollo started fearing that he had gone too far. But he couldn't go back now. And maybe he shouldn't. Maybe this proved he was right, and that's why she couldn't answer. If that was true, then it was all over.

\- You're right. - Esmeralda turned around slowly, her gaze lost in the empty darkness of the room.

Frollo inhaled deeply. So this was it. He had been right. She had moved on to her next conquest. He felt as if a knife had been sunken into his gut, and he opened his mouth to end things once and for all. But Esmeralda spoke again before he could say anything.

\- You're right. - she repeated, and her eyes searched for his for an instant, before looking down again. - I enjoyed it. Wait. - she said, lifting her palm as she saw Frollo's fist tightening and his lips opening to respond. - I didn't enjoy it because of him. I could never see him like that. Never. - she remarked. - And honestly… I don't think I will ever see anyone else like that. - she confessed, blushing.

Frollo was dying to know if he was included in that affirmation, or if she meant anyone else _but him_. But there was no way he was going to ask her that. So he just loosened his hands and listened carefully.

\- I was enjoying the attention. I always have. - she declared with a sigh. - I've never told anyone this. Hell, I don't think I even knew it myself up until right now, when you said it. - she ran her fingers through her hair, lost in her thoughts as she sat back in the chair. - But it is true. And… I think I know why I'm like that.

\- Why? - Frollo couldn't help but ask.

She looked up at him with a sad smile on her face, glad that at least he was willing to listen again.

\- You know I was abandoned as a baby. - Frollo nodded, and she kept going. - As a child, I always wondered why. I felt like there ought to be something wrong with me, something my parents had noticed and that had lead them to leaving me wrapped in nothing but a blanket at the street. - she said, bitterly.

\- It wasn't…

\- I know. - she interrupted him. - I know. But that's what it felt like. I kept wondering over and over again what was it, trying to make some sense out of the painful emptiness they had left in my heart. And don't get me wrong… Clopin found me that same night and he took me to his family, who became my own. I'm not saying I understand the pain of being an orphan.- she clarified, with a meaningful look. - But that emptiness was always there. Eventually I grew out of it, or so I thought, but now I realize it never went away. It just hid its face better.

She was absently playing with her golden bracelets as she spoke, making a soft clinking sound to go with her words.

\- I have always strived to get everyone's attention, to feel seen and important. But from a certain point, it became more than that. I realized the effect I had on men, and it made me feel powerful. Whenever any of them would notice me, I would think that maybe they were seeing something in me that I had missed, and they could help me solve the mystery of my parent's abandonment. But… time and again, they would blindly fall in love with me and made me realize… - she paused, with a strangled voice. She hid her face in her palms, shivering. - Oh, God. It made me realize that they were just seeing the surface. They weren't seeing my true self, for if they had...then they wouldn't love me. I ended up considering every one of them stupid, a shallow fool, and moving on to the next.

These words were very hard to digest for Frollo, as she was just confirming his worst fears. However, a soft voice inside his mind told him that the fact that she was sharing this with him had to mean something else, even if he didn't know what it was.

\- And then I saw you. - she said, lifting her face from her palms, and looking right at him. Frollo was holding his breath, desperately awaiting her next words. - That day at the festival… I was dancing and I saw all the men's usual dumbfounded expressions… but then I saw you sitting there, and your face was completely the opposite.

Frollo moved restless in his armchair, recalling that moment clearly.

\- You were noticing me, alright. But you looked as if… as if you hated me. I think in that moment something in me realized maybe you had the answer I had spent my whole life looking for. Maybe you were seeing what was wrong with me, and that's why you despised me so much. I felt I had to reach you. And when I did, when I looked into your eyes, I… you were the most complex, not shallow and stupid, human being I had ever seen. And that scared the hell out of me.

\- Curious choice of words. - he mumbled sarcastically, and to his surprise, she chuckled.

\- Right – she nodded, recalling the firey events that followed.

There was a moment of silence, and Frollo felt a burning question stuck in his throat. He was terrified of the answer, but Esmeralda was opening her heart to him in full honesty. She deserved the same treatment.

\- What about Phoebus? - he finally asked, regretting it immediately.

Esmeralda looked shocked that he was bringing that up, but when she answered, her tone was also relieved to be given the chance to clarify it:

\- Phoebus was kind to me. I admired his bravery… at least, until he saved his own skin and left us all behind. But even before that happened… I knew we wouldn't go far. It's just like I told you… he only saw the good parts in me. He wasn't able to see the truth. He wouldn't have known what is wrong with me.

\- There's nothing wrong with you. - Frollo stated without second thought.

\- Oh, _but there is_. - Esmeralda said grimly. - And I think you know it too. Can I ask you something?

Frollo nodded cautiously.

\- That day, at the festival… When I looked into your eyes. I felt as if I was seeing your soul. Did you feel that too?

\- I did. - Frollo admitted hoarsely.

\- And what did you see?

He paused for an instant to think. The moment had been so brief, yet so intense, that it was really hard for him to find the right words to describe it. When he recalled it, there weren't any rational explanations coming to his mind… rather, there were feelings. Images.

\- Fire. - he answered at last. - Dark fire.

She nodded seriously and slowly got up from the chair. She walked towards the fireplace, with her back turned against him. Without looking at him, she whispered.

\- I couldn't have described it better.

Frollo watched her silhouette against the flames, the brightness of which, made her appear as a black figure in contrast.

The light came through the long cloth of her red skirt giving her a burning aura around her body. He felt as if he was witnessing a supernatural apparition, a fire goddess, terribly beautiful and lethal. She turned around, her eyes were glaring.

\- Everyone can see the light in me. But no one before had ever been able to see that I have a dark side too. All my life I've had this… anger, inside of me. Anger for being abandoned, for being tossed away like trash, like I deserved nothing better. I thought it was wrong to feel that way, that it made me ungrateful towards my new family. I tried to channel that anger into determination to do what's right and to prevent others from suffering the way I was suffering. But it didn't go away. It hasn't. - she confessed, removing her golden bracelets and letting them fall to the floor with a loud noise.

Frollo looked at her silently, fearful to say anything that could interrupt her.

\- I am so angry, Claude. - she said with a trembling voice. The intimate sound of his name on her lips made him shiver in pleasure. - I am angry at my parents, for leaving me in the middle of the street like that, without a single explanation. - as she said those words, she also removed her ruby necklace and tossed it to the ground with the bracelets. - I am angry at Clopin's family… I know this makes me a terrible person, but I'm so mad at them for not filling the void I was feeling, for not being able to understand what I was going through and help me get over it. - she furiously took off her golden rings and threw them far away.

Frollo had never seen her losing her temper like that. Even when she had been mad at him, even when she had slapped him, she had kept some sort of restraint. But now she seemed to be on a trance, talking to herself more than she was talking to him. And she kept going.

\- I am angry at everyone I've ever met for being so simple, so plain, making me feel like I was the only one able to see the truth… Making me feel so utterly alone. - she raised her hand, and grabbing her hair pins, she let her curls fall free. The pins followed the jewels to the ground.

\- I am angry at you.- she lowered her tone, but kept her eyes locked into her own hands, without giving him a single glance.- For showing me that I wasn't the only one, and then openly displaying your hatred for the people I love, making it impossible for me to defend you without betraying them! - she accused, and with a loud gasp, she began to reach for the back lace on her dress, that kept it on place. She pulled from it and the stunning red dress loosened. She took out her arms from the sleeves, and with a strong shaking movement, the dress rolled down to the floor, leaving her with only the light white tunic beneath it.

Frollo swallowed, paralyzed, as the flames made it become pretty much transparent, allowing him to perceive every curve on her body. She stepped out of the fallen dress, and with her healthy foot, she kicked it away.

\- And I'm angry at myself. For feeling like this. For being this person. Because this is who I am. It's not something that will go away, that I can fix or leave behind. I am angry because I couldn't be satisfied with the good, kind people around me. I always felt I needed more, and I got mad at them for not wanting more either. They were just happy with their simple, banal lives, and as much as I tried, I was just bored. And I envied them so much it only made me angrier. I am angry at myself for not being contempt when I have more than many other people dream of having. I had a family that loved me, a roof over my head, even if it was the catacombs roof. But even so, I never felt at home anywhere. I never felt I belonged. I am angry for feeling like that and at the same time, I am angry that I never allowed myself to feel like that. I'm just so sick of it! - she yelled, and she quickly pulled the tunic over her head and threw it to the flames, watching it instantly catch fire and beginning to turn to ash.

The avid fire created all sorts of reflections on her now naked caramel skin. She was breathing loudly, her chest going up and down with each exhalation. If she had looked like a fire goddess before, now she looked like a flame itself, trembling and irradiating heat.

Frollo felt like his chest was about to explode. To be truthful, he felt his entire body was about to explode. And then she turned around and looked at him for the first time since she had started ranting. And though his eyes were dying to contemplate every inch of her exposed skin, somehow the magnetic pull of her emerald gaze kept them locked in hers.

\- Now you know. - she whispered, almost inaudibly. - This is who I truly am. The me that no one knows. The dark, complete truth. - she paused and then, taking a small step towards the judge, she asked. - Will you take me?

He was shocked. He couldn't process anything. His mouth was dry and his skin was crawling with goosebumps. He feared that the slightest move could wake him up to see it had all been a dream. But the roaring sound of his heartbeat on his ears seemed very real. He tried to breathe, and slowly but firmly, he got up from the armchair.

He stared at her. She was holding herself, looking so vulnerable, but at the same time the intensity of her gaze made her appear like the most powerful being on earth. He wanted her so much, he felt like his whole body was on fire.

He took a step forward, so he would be even closer. And then, he took off his black velvet cape.

Esmeralda felt her heart racing. _Was he doing what she thought he was doing?_ Though her whole body was craving his proximity, something deep inside her shrunk in pain. But his next move caught her by surprise.

He took his cape and placed it over her shoulders, covering her naked exposed body.

\- Of course I will take you. - he whispered into her ear, as he adjusted the cape. He then leaned back to be able to look her in the eye. Her eyes were flooding. - And, if you wish… You will always have a home here, with me. You will always belong.

Esmeralda bursted out crying. She broke down, but his arms were there to catch her. He pulled her closer against his wide chest, and embraced her tightly. He sunk his face in her thick hair, inhaling her intoxicating smell, almost at the verge of tears himself. He had thought that kissing her was the best he could ever aspire to, but this was better. He felt like his soul was merging with hers. There were no more barriers, the weapons had all been laid down. They were finally on the same side. It felt like the two of them now existed apart from the rest of the world.

Her weeping was leaving her exhausted. He could feel her body shaking, fighting to stand. So, in a swift delicate but decided move, he passed his arm behind her knees and lifted her in his arms. She gasped, surprised at his strength, as she clung to his neck. Her crying stopped, though her breathing was still irregular.

He walked towards the bed and carefully placed her among the blankets, with her head on the pillow. She moved aside to give him space to lay down with her.

He removed his robes, leaving only the under layer on, and he laid on his side, looking at her.

\- You can sleep here if you want. - he whispered, adjusting a black curl behind her ear.

Esmeralda looked at the man's features against the darkness of the room, with the pale moonlight of the window behind. His gray eyes were like a deep ocean of liquid silver, shimmering in the night. On them, she saw everything Frollo was feeling. She felt so moved by his actions and words. For a moment there, she had feared he was going to kiss her and take possession of her naked body. And though she desired that, if he had done it in that moment, her heart would have been broken. For it wasn't her naked body that she was trying to reveal to him, but her naked soul. But when he covered her body and reassured her, she knew he understood, and she surrendered to him. Now she was free.

She crawled to him and pressed her face to his chest. Frollo embraced her again, and none of them said anything, for there was nothing left to say. They both fell into a dreamless sleep that lasted until the sunrise.

And though nothing else happened between them that night, it was the night that both knew, with absolute certainty at last, that they were made for each other.


	27. The Tour

\- Are you awake…?- she heard a low voice, whispering in her ear.

Esmeralda opened her eyes, dazed. When her pupils adapted to the semi darkness of the room, she was able to distinguish the features of the face from which the voice was coming.

It was Claude Frollo's face.

Probably the last face on earth she would have ever imagined waking up to. But also, as she had just realized, the first face on earth she would now choose to wake up to.

\- Hi – she mumbled, still sleepy. It wasn't until she tried to turn on her side to face him that she realized, under all the blankets, she was still naked.

It took her an instant to recall the events that had occurred the night before, but when she did, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. _Had she really…? Oh God._ What must he think of her now? But, truth be told, she was in his bed, wasn't she? That had to mean something.

Frollo was staring at her so deeply, she felt his eyes piercing her soul. His smell was everywhere around her, on the pillows, the sheets. She felt completely surrounded by his presence, and to her surprise, that actually made her feel safer than ever.

\- How are you feeling? - he asked cautiously. She could tell he was afraid of her reaction waking up to him. Maybe he thought that she had lost her mind last night, and wasn't sure of how he should handle her now.

But the reality was, Frollo was indeed afraid, though it was something else that was worrying him. He feared that she had got carried away in her angry confession and that now, looking at it under a different, new day's light, she would regret it and run away to hide herself again.

But, to his relief, Esmeralda smiled timidly.

\- I'm good. - she said with a gentle nod. - How are you? - she asked then, tentatively.

\- Not so good – he answered truthfully, and Esmeralda's heart flinched. But he quickly explained. - I have to go take that stupid tour of the city with Lefebvre.

\- Oh… - she said, dissapointed. - Are you sure you don't want me to…?

\- No. - he interrupted her firmly. - You should stay here and rest. I will handle this myself.

\- Okay then. - she agreed, watching Frollo rise up from the bed, and realizing he was already dressed with his judge clothes.

The man looked at her unsure how to say goodbye. She was looking at him expectantly, so he nervously leaned down and swiftly kissed her forehead.

\- I'll see you tonight. - he promised.

\- Good. - she replied with a warm smile, wrapping herself tighter in the blankets and yawning.

Frollo looked at her for an instant as she closed her eyes to drift back into sleep. In his bed. Naked. It took every ounce of strength and self discipline in him to walk away from the bed and leave the room.

* * *

Gaspard Lefebvre was already waiting for him in the hall when he came downstairs. He had chosen a very ostentatious attire, a green vest with golden roses embroidered on it, green tights and shiny black shoes. He was also wearing a white scarf that contrasted with his dark hair and beard.

\- Good morning, Minister! - he greeted him loudly.

God, even his voice was annoying, Frollo thought to himself before faking a polite smile.

\- I hope you found your chamber comfortable, Mr Lefebvre- he said with a gentle gesture.

\- Oh, most certainly! - the emissary reassured. - I slept wonderfully, specially after such a delightful evening. It's a shame that your beautiful guest won't be joining us today. - he pointed out, with a hint of hope in his tone that Frollo promptly extinguished.

\- She needs the rest to heal, I'm sure you understand.

\- Of course, of course – Gaspard nodded, dissapointed. - Shall we, then?

Frollo guided him towards the courtyard, where he expected to see his carriage, or Lefebvre's, already awaiting them. However, when they walked into the open, only Pat was there, holding the reins of two horses.

\- I hope you don't mind. - Gaspard said, lightly – I took the liberty of asking your servants to prepare two horses for us instead of the carriage. That will give us a chance to blend in with the citizens and enjoy a typical Parisian day.

\- You want to ride all day? - Frollo asked in disbelief.

\- I would love to, yes! Unless, of course – he said casually – _you_ find it too tiring.

Frollo's teeth gritted. Here it was again, the hidden poison in Lefebvre's words, trying to remark his age and to get him to admit weakness. Well, he wasn't going to give Lefebvre that satisfaction.

\- Not at all – Frollo responded calmly – I'm just surprised that a man used to the king's court commodities would choose to ride his own horse instead of having someone else transporting him.

\- Oh, but I wasn't born in court, Your Honor. - Gaspard replied, and though his smile remained fixed on his face, his eyes darkened menacingly. - I come from humble origins, such as yourself from what I've heard. I've had to ride a lot of horses to get to where I am now. I'm not afraid of getting my clothes dirty. - he pointed out with a meaningful look.

Frollo sensed the implicit threat on his words. Gaspard wanted to make sure he knew that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, even if he was still to reveal what exactly that was.

Though Frollo was starting to suspect it, and Lefebvre's next words fueled his suspicions.

\- What a wonderful beast! - the emissary said, coming closer to Frollo's black horse.

If Frollo looked short in comparison to his horse, Lefebvre looked even smaller. But that didn't stop the man from admiring the animal from every angle, complimenting his strength and gracefulness. He was looking at Snowball with greedy eyes, and his voice sounded hungry when he asked:

\- Would you be so generous as to spare him for the day? I would be more than honored to ride this powerful creature.

Frollo looked at the other horse Pat was holding. It was a shorter, smaller brown mare, slender and healthy, but in no way comparable to his own mount. However, once again Gaspard had trapped him with his formal request.

\- Absolutely. -Frollo pointed out, at Pat couldn't help throwing him an astonished look, for he knew how protective the judge was when it came to his horse. - However, I'm not sure he… - he started to warn, but Gaspard was already grabbing the reins and climbing onto the horse's saddle.

Snowball neighed restlessly, but the emissary pulled hard from the reins and forced him to keep his head low. Frollo felt his fists clenching as he witnessed the lack of delicacy with which the man was treating his precious horse. But he forced himself to take a deep breath and climb onto the mare, which, even with his superior height, left him a little under Gaspard's one. Something that didn't go unnoticed by the emissary, who fought to conceal a smug smile.

Pat guided both horses to the back entrance, and after wishing them both a good day, he closed the iron door, leaving the two men finally alone.

Frollo soon noticed that the emissary's intention to "blend in" was just a mere pretense to brag around the city. He wanted to be seen in his royal attire, and he was definitely enjoying the attention and murmurs his presence caused among the commoners. He stood straight on Frollo's horse, taking a great satisfaction from the fact that he got to look at the judge over his shoulder. Frollo kept repeating himself that he just had to endure the day, let the man get his dose of admiration, and then maybe Lefebvre would leave him alone. So, with great effort, he just went along with the whole thing, trying to ignore the people's prying looks and snarky whispers.

At noon, Notre Dame's bells started to ring. Frollo quickly rushed his mare to reach Gaspard, who was keeping a fast pace to lead the way.

\- Mr Lefebvre – he called, trying to conceal the anxiety in his tone. - May I suggest we take a detour around the river? With the sun so high, the views outside the city are something to behold. - he pointed out, trying to sound convincing.

\- I don't see why not. - Gaspard replied. Frollo exhaled alleviated. He wanted to keep the emissary as far from the cathedral as possible. - I seem to recall there was a picturesque mill across the bridge. Let's head that way.

Frollo cursed internally, his relief being instantly swept away by his concern.

The mill Gaspard was referring to was the one he had set on fire during his frantic search for Esmeralda, when that coward Phoebus hadn't had the nerve to do it himself. Though the captain had rescued the miller's family and they were now safely hosted at one of Mr Flamcourt's properties, the mill itself had burned to the ground. But he didn't want to reveal his moment of madness to the emissary, so he kept silent as they rode across the bridge, waiting for some kind of miracle or divine intervention to save him from the embarrassment.

However, when they got to the burned mill, the only divine intervention felt like more of a cosmic cruel joke. For the whole miller's family was there, watching the reconstruction builders as they cleared the remaining debris and started placing the new stones in the walls.

\- What happened here? - Lefebvre asked dramatically.

\- A tragic fire. - Frollo answered briefly, trying to convince himself that there was no harm in not revealing the whole truth.

When they saw him, the miller's wife and kids hid behind the miller's wide body. Gaspard noticed this and pointed his horse towards them.

\- Are you the miller? - he asked the anxious man, who nodded silently. - I'm so sorry to see what happened to your home. Were there any personal losses?

\- N...no, sir. My wife and children are all safe, thanks to the Lord.

\- That's wonderful news in the middle of such disgrace. - Lefebvre commented sympathetically.

Frollo was right behind him, listening carefully as he held his breath. The miller seemed confused by the emissary's questioning. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of test, and worried that the judge may had come back for further punishment. He desperately wanted to get on Frollo's good side, so he took a couple steps towards him and said, in a pleading tone:

\- We're so very grateful for the hospitality you provided for us, Your Honor. Our family will always be in debt with you.

The judge felt sick with guilt, hearing the implicit terror in his words.

\- It was the least I could do. - he reassured the man with a gentle nod.

\- How come? - asked the emissary, to whom the quick exchange of words hadn't go unnoticed.

A thick silence followed. The miller kept his eyes fixed on his feet, and his family flinched tighter together behind him. Frollo swallowed, desperately trying to find a proper answer. Each second made the tension grow and Gaspard's avid look increased. Like a hound smelling a prey, he felt he was onto something there.

\- Well… it is my duty as Minister of Justice to make sure every citizen in Paris is treated justly, isn't it?. - Frollo declared finally.

\- Of course. - Gaspard agreed in a low tone, though he heard an almost inaudible snort coming from the miller's wife.

\- It's past noon – Frollo announced, trying to change the subject. - I'm sure you must be hungry. May I interest you in a proper warm meal at the city's best canteen?

\- That sounds wonderful – Lefebvre affirmed, and with a final deep stare at the miller, he grabbed the reins of his horse and turned away to follow Frollo back through the bridge.

When they arrived at the canteen, Frollo slipped a few coins into the server boy's hand to make sure he would take his horses to the back yard and gave them some water as they ate.

They entered the crowded canteen, and the noise covered their entrance. In that moment, Gaspard tripped onto a chair, making a loud sound, and everyone's heads turned around to look at them. The conversations instantly faded. Frollo was almost certain that the emissary had crashed into the chair on purpose to make himself noticed. He apologized with a fake embarrassed smile and stood tall so everyone could get a look at his elegant clothes. Soon, heads were close together again and murmurs were exchanged. Though this particular canteen was a gathering place for wealthy individuals, their social status was still far from the judge's, let alone the emissary's. So they were impressed and suspicious of their presence there.

Frollo took a step forward and guided Lefebvre towards an empty table at the corner, where they wouldn't be bothered by the people's indiscretion. People resumed their animated conversations, and soon the place was filled with noise again. However, as they were being served two glasses of wine, a loud nasal voice was heard, forcing its way through the crowded place.

Mr Flamcourt's prominent paunch hit their table as its owner arrived, short of breath.

\- Your Honor! - he greeted Frollo, with a small reverence. - I heard you had come in and had to come check for myself. To what do we owe the honor? - he asked, visibly drunk. He then noticed Gaspard Lefebvre's presence across the table, and his eyes widened with surprise. - Oh, excuse my manners Sir. I'm Antoine Flamcourt, at your service. - he announced, with another reverence.

\- It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Flamcourt. - The emissary replied pompously. - I'm Gaspard Lefebvre, an emissary from Your Majesty the King.

Frollo could see Gaspard's rejoice at Mr Flamcourt's bewilderment.

\- Please join us, my friend. - Lefebvre invited him, with a gentle gesture. - I'd be honor to get to know such an important man in Paris. - he complimented Flamcourt, who seemed eager to get closer.

\- Oh, I wouldn't dare interrupt… - Flamcourt said with a fake modesty tone, throwing Frollo an inquiring look.

\- You're not interrupting at all. - Frollo replied politely, though he was very irritated at the man's intromission.

If he usually found it hard to withstand Flamcourt's annoying presence and shallow conversation, doing so while engaging in Lefebvre's subtle but constant battle of words seemed unbearable. Though, on second thought, maybe Esmeralda's strategy would work again during this conversation. Maybe Flamcourt and Lefebvre would dive into their own battle of prides and leave him aside.

To his relief, that's exactly what happened. While he ate as fast as he could without looking anxious, he observed the two men asking each other apparently innocent questions, each of them attempting to boast about their own accomplishments and positions. It was an unfair battle, not only because of Gaspard's obvious superiority in status, but also because of Flamcourt's inebriated state, which made him sloppy and slow. After a while, Lefebvre was bored, and without warning, he brought up a sensitive matter.

\- Did you hear about what happened to that beautiful mill, Mr Flamcourt? - he asked, pouring the man another glass of wine.

Frollo immediately raised his eyes from his plate, alert.

\- Of course I did. - Flamcourt replied, offended. - Everyone in town heard about the unfortunate event!- he explained without hesitation. But then he remembered Frollo's presence there, and his face turned to a nervous expression. - Though, if you ask me, it just had to be done. - he pointed out, trying to gain the judge's sympathy.

Frollo wanted to bury his face in his palms, or yell at the man for his indiscretion, or both. Instead, he cleared his throat uncomfortably, watching Lefebvre's eyes narrow.

\- What do you mean, had to be done? Was it intentional? - the emissary asked, turning his sharp gaze to the judge.

\- The miller was a suspect in a criminal search. - Frollo decided to intervene, hoping his explanation would settle the emissary's thirst for gossip. - There were reasons to suspect he was harboring gypsies that had taken part in a riot days before. When he refused to cooperate, we were forced to take action.

Frollo looked at Flamcourt by the corner of his eye to see his reaction. To his relief, the man was looking at his glass, nodding absently, and probably not even listening to what he was saying. Gaspard looked at him as well, and then he turned back to the judge.

\- I see… what an unpleasant situation. -he commented.

\- Indeed. - Frollo agreed, alleviated.

However, Lefebvre wasn't going to release his juicy prey so soon.

\- So that gypsy riot… has that happened often?- he asked, clearly digging for dirt.

\- Of course not. - Frollo replied, offended. - It was a one time thing and was quickly addressed and solved.

\- You were too gentle on them, Your Honor, if you ask me – Flamcourt intervened again, though no one had asked him. - Not a single execution… the criminals let free… - he recalled, dissapointed.

\- Is that so? - Gaspard asked. - I'm really curious… how did the situation go from burning down mills to liberating the criminals without punishment?

Frollo felt his throat tightening, as he struggled to breathe. He cleared his throat and tried to sound calmed as he stated:

\- Different measures were taken.

He saw Gaspard's intention to ask further, but Flamcourt interrupted him with a loud exclamation:

\- Those gypsies! - he yelled, shaking his head, his vision blurry from the alcohol. - They are a plague to this city! With their pagan sinful habits, and those grotesque indecent spectacles they make!

\- They most certainly are, my friend. - Lefebvre agreed, forgetting about his question, adopting a self-righteous tone - Your Majesty has already received so many complaints from throughout His kingdom. In any important city, the gypsies nest and try to parasite from the commoner's hard honest work. It's a wide-spread plague, I'm afraid. Our King is working hard to eradicate the issue. I'm sure Your Honor keeps this situation as one of his priority concerns. - he stated, pointing to Frollo.

\- Absolutely. - the judge replied.

However, the weirdest thing was happening to him. He didn't know if it was the fact that it was Lefebvre saying it, but he felt uncomfortable listening to those words. Granted, he agreed with every single one of them, rationally. But something inside him protested at their choice of words and their evident loathe towards gypsies. He felt a small but strong urge to speak on their behalf, to defend them from such hateful accusations. _What was wrong with him?_ Had he gone soft because of Esmeralda? He was certain that she was an exception, and he hadn't and wouldn't change his mind about her people. But that uncomfortable little unknown voice inside his head was still protesting.

\- We should be on our way. - Frollo stated, trying to distract himself from such confusing thoughts. - There's still so much to see before sunset.

\- Of course. - Gaspard nodded, getting up from his chair and leaning towards Flamcourt.- It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Flamcourt.

\- The pleasure was mine, Mr… ehm… - he doubted, his mind foggy with alcohol.

\- Mr Lefebvre, your friend and servant. - the emissary said, with a slight bow.

\- Mr Lefebvre! - Flamcourt repeated, embarrassed. - Of course! It's really good to know I now have not only one, but two influencing friends in Court, if I ever need it! - he said cheerfully, winking at Frollo.

\- Is that so? - Gaspard asked in the same cheerful tone, encouraging the drunk man to speak further.

\- Well of course! The Minister here still owes me for providing free hosting to all of his fires's victims, I haven't forgotten! - he pointed out with a friendly poke into Frollo's ribs.

Frollo could have killed him right then and there. He didn't need to look at Lefebvre to visualize the satisfaction in his face.

\- Well – Gaspard said to Flamcourt, condescendingly placing a hand on his shoulder- , now you have a friend even closer to the King, Mr Flamcourt. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon.

The man nodded happily, and turning around, he got lost in the crowd again. Gaspard turned to look at Frollo, whose face appeared paler than usual.

\- _Fires_? Plural?- he inquired with a crooked smile.

\- It was a hard week. - Frollo answered simply, walking past him to the door, hoping he hadn't noticed his hands trembling.

The rest of the afternoon, the judge tried to stall the emissary as long as he could, even when that meant asking him forced questions meant to make the man go on and on about his luxurious life in the royal palace. Frollo wanted to keep him busy until sunset, and then be able to use the dark as an excuse to return to the Palace of Justice right away. But even though his techniques worked for while, eventually Gaspard Lefebvre asked him the question he was dreading:

\- When will we get to the cathedral, Minister? I most certainly cannot leave the city without paying Notre Dame a visit.

\- Oh, I assumed you would be attending Sunday Mass with me tomorrow. - he said, hoping the man would settle for that instead.

He wanted to avoid the encounter between the emissary and the archdeacon. In mass, the priest would be so busy greeting everyone that they would barely have time to speak.

\- Of course I will. But I wanted a chance to admire the architecture on the outside as well. - Lefebvre explained.

\- Follow me then.- Frollo indicated reluctantly, pointing the mare towards the cathedral.

When they got there, Frollo saw true admiration for the first time in the emissary's eyes. Notre Dame had that quality to it, he thought to himself. It made even the cockiest of men feel humble and small. The giant granite lady held such a powerful presence, it almost felt like she was alive. She wasn't something, but _someone_.

Lefebvre was suddenly quiet and reflective, admiring the frontage with the tender gaze of a lover.

\- She's a true beauty. - he mumbled, smiling at Frollo. The judge smiled back at him, with a silent nod.

It was their only honest interaction in the whole day. The sun was nearly gone, and Frollo was starting to feel hopeful. With the tour almost finished, the day was coming to its end. That meant getting rid of the emissary's presence, but, above all, reuniting with Esmeralda. He was dying to get some private time with her, though he wasn't sure what to expect from it now.

But, to his dread, as he opened his mouth to propose they headed home, the cathedral's lateral door opened and the archdeacon showed up, walking eagerly towards them.

\- Frollo! - he called, waving his hand.

_Damn it._

\- Good evening, father.- Frollo answered, respectfully descending from the mane to be at his ground level - Allow me to introduce you; this is Mr Gaspard Lefebvre, an emissary from the King.

Lefebvre stood on the horse as long as possible, enjoying the height difference with Frollo. When the archdeacon reached them, the man quickly descended, and kissed the priest's hand.

\- It's an honor to meet you at last. - he announced cloyingly.

The archdeacon seemed surprised by those words, and he looked at Frollo for clarification.

\- I've heard a lot from you. - Gaspard explained. - The Bishop himself told the King about your dedicated labor here.

\- Oh, the Bishop...- the priest exclaimed, blushing. - Well, I'm but a humble servant of God. I know nothing about royal affairs like the two of you do. - he said, looking at both men alternatively.

\- That may be so, but the King does know about you. - Gaspard insisted with a smile.

Frollo felt the danger coming before the emissary even said the words.

\- He got word from your concerned letter to the Bishop last month. - Lefebvre kept going.

The archdeacon was visibly nervous. He kept throwing anxious glances at Frollo, who was doing his best to appear calmed, even if his stomach was twisting with worry.

\- That… that was a terrible misunderstanding – the priest said with a trembling voice, trying to justify himself. - I immediately sent word afterwards, trying to correct it… I didn't mean it to get to the King himself…

\- I know, I know. - the emissary replied quickly, holding his hand in a condescending tone. - Rest assured that everything's been cleared up and the King is nothing but grateful to you for bringing the matter to our attention.

\- Well, that's good to hear. - the archdeacon nodded, rubbing his hands. - I was really worried that this could affect Minister Frollo's reputation, you see? He is a valuable figure to our community, our protector.

\- Thank you for your kind words, father. - Frollo said with a gentle nod.

\- They're nothing but the truth, my son! - the priest replied firmly.- It wasn't your fault if that gypsy dancer got inside your mind. I knew from the moment I saw the spectacle that it would bring trouble to our city. She meant well, of course, but…

\- Was this woman the one who started the riot? - Lefebvre asked with apparent innocence, but his pupils were dilated like a shark at the smell of blood. He could feel he was getting closer to the core of the matter.

And so could Frollo. His heart was pumping in his ears, and his mouth was so dry he could barely speak. Not that any words were coming to his mind anyway. He was paralyzed. This was it. If the emissary found out the truth, he was lost.

\- I don't think she intended to cause any trouble. But their lack of decorum and excessive licentiousness are not compatible with a proper christian community. They have a way of polluting the mortal mind with unholy thoughts - the priest answered, thoughtful.

\- Of course – the emissary agreed, before setting his trap – It's no wonder then that the Minister was_ confused_ by such demonstrations and _unable_ to take the necessary action against them.

\- Exactly! It wasn't Frollo's fault! - the archdeacon exclaimed, falling head first into it.

Gaspard smiled warmly at him, though Frollo knew his smile was actually coming from his deep satisfaction. He had succeeded at practically getting a confession.

\- We won't keep you any longer, father. - Lefebvre said, kissing the priest's hand again. - I think we've seen all there is to see in this city, haven't we? - he turned to ask Frollo.

\- Indeed. - Frollo hissed, between his gritted teeth.

The archdeacon made a blessing gesture, and walked back to the cathedral, feeling relieved that he had been able to clear things up. He had no clue that he had just thrown Claude Frollo to the wolves.


	28. The Plan

\- He knows. - Claude Frollo stated, the moment he entered the room.

\- Hello to you too- Esmeralda replied, pretending to be offended. She was sitting at the table, practicing her newly acquired writing skills. She missed Quasimodo's classes, and was actually considering to ask Frollo to continue her education.

But it had been a long day alone at the palace, and she had decided to keep trying on her own. So she took a piece of parchment from Frollo's desk and his ink quill and spent the whole afternoon trying to reproduce the letters Quasimodo had taught her. The time flew by and before she knew it, the chamber door had opened and Frollo had walked through it vehemently.

But she immediately noticed he was in no mood for jokes. In fact, he looked like he was about to be sick.

\- What happened? - she asked, rushing to him.

\- He knows. - Frollo repeated, without looking at her. He was pacing back and forth, pressing the bridge of his nose trying to calm himself.

\- He knows what? - she asked again, but Frollo didn't seem to hear her or react in any way.

She walked to him and grabbed his arm, stopping his pacing.

\- Hey! Hi. Come here. Tell me everything – she pleaded, gesturing towards the armchair.

He sat there with an exhausted sigh.

\- The man had me riding all day long! - he complained, rubbing his sore thighs. - And he took my horse. - he confessed, bitterly.

Esmeralda fought a smile, finding the way he cared about his horse so cute.

\- What happened, then? - she asked for the third time.

Frollo inhaled deeply, and began telling her all about their day, the mill, the conversation with Flamcourt and the encounter with the archdeacon. As he was telling his story, Esmeralda's smiled vanished completely, and was replaced by a deep frown of concern.

\- I don't know how to fix this. - Frollo concluded, lowering his head in defeat.

Esmeralda felt moved, and she kneeled by his side, holding his face between her palms.

\- Look at me. - she begged in a whisper. Frollo obeyed, and found her emerald eyes filled with certainty. - It will all be okay. We just have to come up with a plan. I will help you.

Frollo's face softened, and he gave her a weak sad smile.

\- I appreciate it, but I don't think any amount of flirting will help at this point.

Esmeralda looked offended, and she removed her hands from his face.

\- You know, flirting with men is not the only thing I can do. - she pointed out irritated.

\- I'm sorry, I know- Frollo promptly apologized. - I just mean that… I don't think there's much you can do right now.

\- You really shouldn't underestimate me like that.- she replied darkly.

But when she saw Frollo's sad gaze, her heart melted a little.

\- Okay, tell me this. Does he know that I am the dancer the archdeacon mentioned?

\- No… - Frollo answered after a pause. - I don't think so. He never mentioned your name. Though Lefebvre is smart. It won't be long until he puts the pieces together.

\- Let's get ahead of him, then. - she resolved.

\- How? - Frollo asked, hesitantly.

\- Do you trust me? - she asked back, lifting an eyebrow.

\- I do. - Frollo answered, and to his surprise, he was being honest. He was used to controlling everything that happened around him, cause he trusted nobody but himself to do things right. But there was something in Esmeralda's confidence that filled him with faith in the woman before him.

\- Good. - she said, with a crooked smile. - Because I have an idea.

* * *

\- Forgive my tardiness – Esmeralda apologized, coming down the stairs.

Frollo was already waiting for her with Lefebvre at the main hall.

This time, she was wearing a light blue dress that contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin. She had tied her long hair in a complicated braid. Gaspard's eyes observed her meticulously.

\- No apology necessary, my lady. - he said, offering his arm. - The pleasure of your company is something worth waiting for.

She smiled warmly, and taking his arm, followed the two men into the dining room.

\- We missed you today. - the emissary said when they sat at the table, as the servants began pouring their drinks and serving the food.

\- Did you enjoy the city, Mr Lefebvre? - Esmeralda asked politely.

\- Oh, yes, it's a beautiful city indeed. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it. I've spent so much time in the south with Your Majesty, for he prefers the weather down there, that I forgot how wonderful it is up here.

Frollo felt a little more relaxed once he saw that Gaspard appeared to be relaxed himself. He was commenting on the weather, mentioning his royal life as usual, and he had apparently buried the subtle hostilities for the moment.

\- You were lucky it was such a sunny day then!- Esmeralda said cheerfully.- The weather is usually worse here in the winter.

\- Indeed! - Lefebvre agreed. - The housekeeper was just mentioning that there was a huge electric storm a couple weeks ago, wasn't it? I believe it was the last time you were here. - he commented casually, while biting on some chicken thigh.

Frollo and Esmeralda exchanged a quick glance. The night at the library, by the harpsichord, came to their minds at the same time. Esmeralda hesitated for a moment, not sure what to answer.

\- Don't you remember? - Gaspard insisted. - It must have been around the time those gypsies were released.

If Frollo had any doubt before, now he was sure. Gaspard was onto something, setting them up for a trap. Esmeralda's paling face let him know that she had arrived to the same conclusion. She threw him a desperate look.

\- Okay. - she said, in a defeated tone, shaking her head. - This is ridiculous.

\- Pardon me? - the emissary said, playing dumb.

But Esmeralda wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Frollo's. The judge's lips tightened.

\- We have to tell him the truth. - Esmeralda pleaded.

Frollo's eyes widened in disbelief. If they told the truth, then Gaspard would use it against them for sure. But at this point, he couldn't come up with any believable excuse anymore. And if Lefebvre suspected they were lying, he would stop at nothing to uncover the real story. There was nothing left they could do. Maybe being honest about it would help, somehow.

\- Alright. - he granted in a low tone.

Esmeralda nodded and turned her gaze towards the emissary, that was witnessing their exchange with his mouth watering in expectation.

\- Mr Lefebvre – she began, with a trembling voice. - I'm not at the palace because of my injury.

\- You're not injured? - Gaspard asked, confused.

\- Oh, I am. Or I was, anyway. But that's not the main reason I'm here. - she clarified.

Gaspard looked at Frollo, who held his piercing gaze with stoicism. Esmeralda watched them both, and proceeded to explain further.

\- As you found out, this hasn't been my first stay at the palace. There's something else going on. Something we didn't tell you because...- she paused, hesitant.

The emissary couldn't hide his expectancy.

\- Why? - he asked avidly.

\- Well… because it is a secret. - she said, lowering her tone to prevent the servants from hearing. - We didn't want to tell anyone at least until we knew that it would work out for sure.

Frollo was listening alarmed. How much was she going to reveal? They hadn't discussed anything related to their relationship or what they were going to do about it. _Was there even a relationship to discuss?_ He felt a layer of cold sweat covering his forehead.

\- But you're an intelligent man, and I think you would have found out eventually by yourself. - she confessed, watching Lefebvre nod in agreement.

\- So you may as well tell me now. - he affirmed, eagerly.

\- Yes. - Esmeralda replied, and with a sigh of surrender, she declared – I'm here on a secret mission, Mr Lefebvre.

_What?_ Frollo was astonished, but he did his best to keep his face straight.

\- A secret mission? - Gaspard repeated her words, in a distrusting tone.

\- Yes, Sir. - Esmeralda confirmed in all seriousness. - I'm acting as a diplomatic negotiator between the Minister of Justice and my people. I'm a gypsy. - she revealed.

\- Is this true? - Lefebvre asked Frollo, stupefied.

Frollo nodded carefully, not daring to open his mouth and ruin Esmeralda's plan.

\- Of course it is! - She replied offended. - Do you take me for a liar, Mr Lefebvre?

\- Oh, no, that's not what I...- Gaspard said, stammering. - I just… I've never heard of such a thing before. A gypsy diplomatic?

\- The reason you haven't heard from it is because it's never been done before. - Esmeralda explained plainly.- But I'm sure you're aware of the current difficulties that my people and yours are experiencing when trying to coexist in this country. - she pointed out, recalling what Frollo had told her about their conversation at lunch.

\- Yes, yes, I'm well aware. - the emissary stated immediately. - Our King is very concerned with this subject.

\- So is our Minister here. - she indicated, gesturing towards Frollo. - But he has observed during the years that the old methods of persecution and punishment were doing nothing to fix the underlying problem, and on the contrary, only led to more conflict and riot.

\- Aha...- Gaspard nodded, listening carefully.

\- So he figured that modern times call for modern solutions. - she stated, emphasizing the word _modern_ with an imperceptible wink in Frollo's direction. She was well aware that one of Gaspard's usual ammunition against him was his age.

The judge fought the urge to smile at her hint, and just nodded to show his agreement.

\- So what's this modern solution you propose, Minister? - Gaspard asked him directly.

He hesitated for a second, his mouth suddenly dry with nervousness. But he couldn't avoid the emissary's questions forever. Esmeralda was also looking at him, with an encouraging smile.

\- Well… - he cleared his throat, and decided to stay as close to the truth as possible. - As she was saying, at one point I realized that the spiraling violence would only lead to more trouble. We needed to find a different approach. So I decided to negotiate with them.

\- Frollo offered them their freedom back if I was willing to stay and mediate between the two factions. - Esmeralda intervened.- He set a list of rules, banned all controversial activities, and allowed them to stay in the city as long as they obeyed his rules and didn't cause any more trouble.

\- I don't suppose that worked… - Lefebvre commented with skepticism.

\- It did! - Esmeralda affirmed, with a broad smile. - There hasn't been a single incident since. In fact, thanks to my interaction with the Minister, most gypsies have decided to leave the city and find a new proper home to settle.

_Well, that part was completely true_, Frollo thought to himself with an inner crooked smile. He was feeling suddenly optimistic. _This plan might actually work!_

\- What about that gypsy dancer the archdeacon mentioned? - the emissary asked, grasping for straws.

\- Rest assured, Mr Lefebvre. - Esmeralda replied quickly, with a confident smile. - I personally made sure that she's off the streets for good.

Frollo could have kissed her right there and then. He struggled to keep a steady expression, as the emissary looked at him and then down to his plate.

\- I see…-said Gaspard, lost in his thoughts.- Though, if my information is correct, this all happened barely a month ago. It's too soon to jump to conclusions. - It was evident that he was annoyed that the secret he was after wasn't a dirty one, but instead, something that made Frollo look better.

\- That's why we decided to be discreet. We didn't want to announce our new method until we were sure it worked long term. - Esmeralda explained, nodding. - But I'm sure you'll understand the importance of this matter and the potential for a better coexistence, not only in Paris, but in all His Majesty's kingdom.

\- Indeed. - the emissary affirmed. - I think the King will be very interested in hearing all about your diplomatic efforts, Frollo. - he said to the judge.

\- I'm just trying to fulfill the duty Our Majesty entrusted me. - Frollo answered humbly.

\- Of course. - Gaspard nodded, his face appearing more and more dissapointed and dark. - Please forgive me, but I'm feeling indisposed. - he said suddenly, dropping his fork on the plate.

\- Are you alright? - Esmeralda asked with a fake concerned tone.

\- Yes, my dear, worry not. - he said, his face softening a little as he gently touched Esmeralda's arm. - I'm just tired from this long day. The meal was wonderful, but if you'll excuse me, I'll retire to my chambers now. Tomorrow I'm traveling back to the King's palace after mass, and I need to be well rested.

\- Of course. - Frollo agreed, also getting up from his chair. - We all should go to sleep now. It's been a long day indeed.

So the three of them walked out of the dining room, towards the stairs.

\- This is were I leave you. - Gaspard said, and though he was smiling, both Esmeralda and Frollo could see the upset look in his eyes.

\- Have a beautiful night, Mr Lefebvre. We'll see you tomorrow. - Esmeralda replied with a head bow.

\- You too, my dear. Your Honor. - he saluted Frollo, and turned around towards his chamber.

The judge and the gypsy climbed the stairs slowly, in silence. As they reached the top floor, they heard Gaspard's door closing loudly, and, after a few seconds, they were sure he was gone.

Frollo turned around and grabbed both of Esmeralda's hands.

\- You did it! - he exclaimed happily.

\- _We_ did it. Did you see the look on his face? - she corrected him, with a big surprised smile at his outburst.

\- Oh, it was all you. - Frollo replied, shaking his head. - I was completely lost. You could have warned me! For a second there I thought you were actually going to tell him the truth.

\- It had to look believable. - she answered with a shrug. - No offense, but you're not a good liar. Lefebvre would have noticed your face.- she pointed out, gesturing towards him. Frollo frowned a little, so she was quick to add. - But you followed along great! We make a great team. - she stated with a wink.

\- You were brilliant. - Frollo responded, still amazed.

\- Should I be offended that you sound so surprised?

\- I'm not, it's just… you made everything fit so perfectly. - he remarked with admiration.

\- Well, I'm a gypsy, remember? Don't you always say we're scamming masters? - she asked, with a hint of resentment in her tone.

He winced, but Esmeralda smiled again playfully.

\- It's fine. I'm just glad it all worked out, and this day is finally over. - she said in a soothing tone.

\- Yes… - Frollo nodded absently. Now that the emissary's problem was back on the right track, his mind was drifting towards more private matters. He suddenly noticed that he was still holding Esmeralda's hands, and he became aware of their softness and warmth. He lowered his tone and looked her right in the eyes.- Do you think you will be able to sleep safely tonight? Or do you prefer to come again with…?

\- I'll be alright. - she interrupted him, and immediately saw Frollo's face clouding with disappointment.- I don't think our beloved emissary is in the mood for any nightly visits tonight. - she stated, and then she took a step closer to Frollo, who looked at her intrigued. - And also… You've had a long day and you need the rest. If I went with you now, I'm not sure I would let you get any. - she whispered, throwing him a meaningful look.

Frollo felt an unexpected surge of fire rushing throughout his body. He swallowed, unsure if he had understood properly, but the look on Esmeralda's eyes left no room for doubt.

\- Hmm… alright. - he mumbled, feeling suddenly light headed.

\- Alright. - she repeated with a smile, and letting go of his hands, she turned around to leave.

But Frollo squeezed her fingers and grasped her before she could get away. He pulled her closer, and leaned until his forehead touched hers. His eyes closed at the intensity of her proximity. But he could hear her breathing accelerating. Esmeralda felt like her heart was about to pump out of her chest. She was longing for him to move just an inch closer, so their lips would meet. His warm breath smelled sharp and sweet because of the wine he had been drinking during dinner. She wanted to taste it. But she was paralyzed like an animal before its predator.

Frollo was carefully pondering his next move. He knew what he wanted to do, his whole body was screaming at him to do it. But he also knew that his strength was debilitating each day he spent near her; he was sure if he started now, he wouldn't be able to stop. And she was right. It wasn't the proper moment. So he inhaled deeply, and moved his face away from hers.

Her pleading eyes were scorching his. He raised his hand and softly caressed her cheek with his thumb.

\- Thank you for helping me tonight. - he whispered.

\- Of...of course. - she mumbled absently, still lost in the burning desire she was feeling.

Frollo kissed her forehead gently, and with a smile of complicity, he let go of her hands and walked away.


	29. Religion

The carriage was already waiting for them at the front door when they finished their breakfast. The three of them climbed inside and Esmeralda sat across the two men. Frollo was wearing his elegant Sunday clothes, but he looked like a beggar in comparison to Gaspard Lefebvre's extravagant colorful outfit. He wanted to make sure no one at the cathedral would leave without having noticed him. She was wearing the same simple blue dress she had wore to diner the night before, with a dark blue cape over it.

They were silent during the brief journey from the palace of justice to the cathedral, though it was evident that the emissary was deeply lost in his thoughts, as if he was plotting something. When they got to Notre Dame, he was the first to descend the carriage, and before Frollo could follow, Esmeralda grabbed his arm.

\- I don't think this is a good idea. - she whispered with worry.

\- Why not? - he replied anxiously, hoping Lefebvre wouldn't notice their delay.

\- What if the archdeacon sees me and says something about me being the mysterious dancer?

Frollo frowned, realizing she was right.

\- But you have to come with us. If you don't, Lefebvre will get suspicious.

\- I know… - she said, biting her lower lip, which sent an inappropriately timed wave of heat to Frollo's lower regions. - Oh, I know! - she exclaimed, suddenly proud of herself.

She descended the carriage steps and called the emissary, who was looking up, admiring the cathedral in broad daylight.

\- Mr Lefebvre! Please come – she asked with a discreet hand gesture.

The man approached her and she leaned closer with secrecy.

\- You know how we said we don't want people knowing we're working together, right?- she whispered near his ear.

The man seemed delighted by her proximity and her intimate attitude.

\- Right.- he nodded with complicity.

\- This is why I won't be sitting with you in mass. The minister has a reserved bench at the front, but I must not be seen with you yet. So I will sit at the back, among the commoners.

\- Oh, I see. - Gaspard whispered back. - You can trust my discretion, my dear.

\- I knew I could count on you. - she said with a warm smile.

Then, she threw Frollo a meaningful look, and she waited by the carriage until the two men entered the church. She then followed them inside at a safe distance, and looked for an available spot in the back benches.

The truth was, she had never been very religious, and this was the third mass in her whole life that she had attended. She felt it was a waste of time, and a sad display of people's hypocrisy. The same people that surrounded her now, dressed in their best attires and holding their heads down in apparent respect, were the ones that had mocked her people her entire life. They were also the ones that criticized the gypsies for their "unholy" habits, only to behave ten times worse than them at the annual festival. She knew there were good people among them as well, honest and kind and hardworking. However, she couldn't shake the feeling that it all was a parade of fools. She felt suffocated by the smell of the multitude and the human heat their bodies emitted when stuffed all together in the same space.

Also, it didn't help that she couldn't understand a word of Latin, the language in which the mass was spoken.

So it felt like ages later when the archdeacon finally pronounced his closing blessing, and the people around her started to get up and move. She was practically dragged outside by the multitude, and though she tried gazing between their heads in search for Frollo, there was no trace of the judge or the emissary.

When she was finally in the open air, she realized that the real lure of mass for most people was the chance of social interaction at the end of it. The main square was filled with people conversing loudly in small groups, commenting about one another, and throwing looks like darts at anyone who seemed different. Including herself. She knew some of the people had recognized her as the gypsy dancer from the festival, and were shocked to see her there, looking so elegantly dressed. There had been rumors about her staying at the palace of justice with the Minister, and her formal attire seemed to confirm them.

But Esmeralda wasn't paying attention to the murmurs around her, for her eyes were fixed on the colorful caravan in the west corner of the square. There, a crowd of children were sitting in the floor and clapping their hands at the puppeteer show.

Her heart started racing in her chest. She wanted to go over there and see Clopin again, try talking to him and saying she had received his gift and was very grateful for it. But her feet were nailed to the ground. She feared his reaction, and she couldn't risk causing a scene while the emissary was still around. She would have to wait, even if her heart was breaking with longing.

In that moment she heard a familiar voice among the multitude, and when she turned around, she saw Frollo exiting the cathedral with Lefebvre and the archdeacon. The judge was speaking loudly on purpose to alert her of their presence. She sneaked through a small group of people and surrounded them. Frollo followed her with his gaze.

\- Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen. - he mumbled, and followed her back into the church.

\- _Pst_! Here! - she called him in a whisper, from the dark corner that led to the tower's spiral staircase. He rushed to her side.

\- You should stay here for now. - he whispered back, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. - The archdeacon is with Lefebvre, it's crucial that he doesn't see you.

\- Alright. I will wait upstairs, with Quasimodo. Meet me there later? - she asked.

\- Yes. I'll see you there. - Frollo answered, already leaving.

The few people that remained in the inside of the church moved aside when they saw him coming. He walked decidedly towards the priest and the emissary, who seemed to be very interested in whatever the archdeacon was talking about.

\- Forgive me. - he said, re-joining the conversation. Gaspard looked up and behind him, searching for Esmeralda, whom he assumed Frollo had just checked upon.

\- The archdeacon was telling me the most interesting story – Lefebvre bragged.

\- Is that so? - Frollo asked absently. He was watching Clopin, who had jumped outside his caravan and was passing his hat around to collect some coins. As if the gypsy could feel his dark stare upon him, he raised his eyes and looked straight at Frollo.

Gaspard noticed Frollo's absent mind and followed the direction of his gaze. He saw the colorfully dressed puppeteer staring at the judge.

\- They don't seem very glad to see you. - he commented casually, though Frollo could hear the underlying satisfaction in his tone.

\- Well, that's why we got an _intermediary_. - Frollo stated between his gritted teeth.

The archdeacon looked confused, he couldn't tell what was going on, but he figured it would be a personal matter between the two men, and mumbling a gentle goodbye, he took off.

\- So… I suppose you'll be leaving as well. - Frollo said, hopeful.

\- Yes. I must get back to the King, he must be eagerly waiting for my update. - Lefebvre responded with an enigmatic smile. He seemed suspiciously satisfied, all of a sudden.

But Frollo knew that they had avoided the worst, so whatever the emissary was up to, it couldn't be that bad. He decided not to worry about it any further.

\- Then, I wish you a safe and comfortable journey, Mr Lefebvre. It's been a pleasure having you here. - he lied blatantly with a polite tone and expression.

\- Oh, I assure you the pleasure's been mine. However, I wouldn't like to leave without bidding farewell to your beautiful diplomatic friend. - the emissary said, looking around avidly.

\- I'm afraid that won't be possible. She was forced to leave early. But she sends you her warm regards. - Frollo explained, hiding the pleasure it gave him to deny him that.

\- Such a pity! - Lefebvre said, dramatically. - Well… in any case… let her know I hope to see her again _very soon_. - once again, the emissary displayed an enigmatic smile that made Frollo uncomfortable.

\- Of course. - he nodded, hoping the man would just leave already.

The emissary bowed respectfully, and with a cold, fake smile, he waved the judge goodbye and climbed onto his carriage. Frollo watched it disappear behind the corner, and only then he was able to take a full deep breath.

* * *

\- Hi Master! - Quasimodo greeted him when he reached his quarters. Both the bell ringer and Esmeralda walked towards him eagerly.

\- Hi, my boy. - Frollo said kindly, placing a hand on Quasimodo's shoulder.

\- How did it go? - Esmeralda asked anxiously.

\- It was all well. - Frollo reassured her. - The archdeacon didn't mention you at all. And Lefebvre is already gone. It's over. - he said, relieved.

\- Yes! We did it! - Esmeralda clapped, celebrating. She walked towards him, extending her hand to grab his in a complicity gesture, but Frollo immediately flinched away.

She looked at him, puzzled, and then realized Quasimodo's weird expression watching the whole thing. She felt embarrassed for getting carried away in her excessive familiarity. She retired her hand, while her cheeks started reddening. It was one thing to be alone with Frollo, and a very different one to expect him to behave the same way in the presence of other people. _Though_, she thought irritated, _this was Quasimodo, for God's sake._ If they couldn't trust him, who would they trust?

The lad noticed the sudden tension between them and tried to break the ice:

\- Are you hungry? I have some food. - he offered happily.

\- I could eat… - said Esmeralda, hesitating.

\- I don't see why not. - Frollo stated, and he walked past her towards the table.

Her irritation grew with his indifference, but she was determined not to let it ruin the good mood that had followed Lefebvre's departure. So she inhaled deeply and gathered her patience, displaying a smile and following Frollo to the table.

Quasimodo served them some water and a piece of bread and cheese for each. He sat across them and smiled at the sight of the judge and the gypsy sitting side by side, concentrated in their food. It was so weird to see them together in such a day-to-day situation, instead of the dramatic ones he was used to seeing them in, so far.

But it felt nice. Even if it made no rational sense, Quasimodo felt for the first time in his life, like he had a_ family_. Not just separated people who cared about him, but people who also cared about each other. It was a foreign but warm feeling.

\- So… was it hard to endure? - Frollo asked Esmeralda, out of the blue.

\- What was? - Esmeralda inquired, baffled.

\- Attending Sunday mass. I don't have you for a very religious person.

\- You're right… I'm not. - Esmeralda said cautiously. She knew the significant role that religion played in Frollo's life. The man was looking at her in an indecipherable way, and she wasn't able to tell if he was judging her or just listening with an open mind. However, she felt the need to explain further. - To be honest… I do believe in some higher power. Call it God, or whatever you want. I believe there's Someone up there… Someone who cares for us. Who loves us. It's like… I can feel it sometimes, you know?

Quasimodo was also listening carefully. From his earliest memories, he could remember Frollo talking to him about God, reading him the Bible and explaining God's rules, all about good and evil and sin. He had believed every word the judge had told him. Of course, he had no one else to talk to, or to run the information by. His world was limited to what Frollo told him. But he had never questioned it, for it made sense to him. He considered himself a religious person. _He lived in a cathedral, didn't he?_

He knew there were atheists and pagans, of course. Poor misguided souls, as Frollo had described them, who lived in sin and turned their backs at God's mercy. But it never occurred to him that someone could have a different version of God. He deeply respected and admired Esmeralda, and was eager to hear more about her view on the matter.

\- So… - the lad asked reflectively - If you do believe in God… why don't you come to church?

Esmeralda bit her lip, trying to find the correct words to give him a proper answer.

\- I guess it's because… I don't think I need to. If there is a God, he must be everywhere, right? I can talk to Him while walking through the forest, or in the city streets, or gazing at the sun. And I believe He wants me to feel free and happy. To love others… I mean, isn't that what the Bible says? I don't see the point in coming to listen to a bunch of Latin prayers I don't understand, surrounded by a bunch of people who don't live by what they're preaching.

Quasimodo nodded, pondering her words. She looked at Frollo, afraid she might have hurt his feelings. But the judge seemed to be deep in his own thoughts.

He was recalling what he had lived during his near-death experience. He remembered her mother's words when he asked him about God; _"You got it all wrong, my dear. He's not who you think either. He's not even a he"_ Maybe Esmeralda's words were closer to the truth than she realized? Or maybe it had all been an hallucination. Though it had felt realer than almost anything he had ever experienced being alive. However, he had never mentioned it to anyone, and he still wasn't ready to do it now.

\- Excuse me. - he said, absently. - I'm going to get some fresh air. - he announced, getting up from his chair and walking towards the exterior corridor.

\- Do you think I offended him? - Esmeralda whispered to Quasimodo, frowning with concern.

\- I'm not sure. - Quasimodo answered honestly. - He's very sensitive about religion.

\- Why do you think that is? - she inquired, intrigued.

\- Well… I've always thought it's because he finds great comfort in God, you know? In knowing there's Someone in charge, Someone powerful but compassionate, that can tell him what to do or not do.

\- Do you think it's because he lost his parents? - she asked in a whisper, looking at the door to make sure Frollo couldn't hear them.

Quasimodo seemed surprised that he had told her that part of his story. But he smiled, glad that the judge was slowly opening up.

\- Yes, that may be part of the reason. But I think it's more than that. Though it may be better that he tells you himself.

\- Oh, come on! You can't say that and then not tell me! - She protested with an exasperated sigh.

\- Alright! - Quasimodo said, hushing her. - Lower your voice!

\- _Sorry._ \- she whispered, leaning forward to get closer and listen to him better.

\- I believe Frollo finds in God the father figure he always lacked. I mean, even when his father was alive.

\- Why? - she asked, baffled.

Quasimodo hesitated for a second, but after taking a quick glance at the empty door, he leaned closer and explained:

\- Frollo's father abused him and his brother. He was violent and punished them hard whenever they did something wrong. Frollo usually tried to defend his brother, and he would end up receiving a double punishment. He still has… marks, on his body.

Esmeralda was covering her mouth with her hand, horrified.

\- You can never tell him I told you that. I think I'm the only one that knows. - Quasimodo begged quickly.

Esmeralda shook her head, in a reassuring gesture to let him know he shouldn't worry about that. But her mind was still trying to process this new piece of information. She immediately thought about Pat, and then it became crystal clear why Frollo had reacted the way he did when witnessing Pat's father abusing him. It probably also explained why he had chosen to adopt and protect a deformed baby when it was abandoned at Notre Dame's steps.

Then, they heard Frollo's footsteps coming back inside, and they both leaned back, Esmeralda quickly wiping the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

\- Are you okay? - she asked him carefully.

\- I am. - he responded with a calmed tone. He then noticed her reddened eyes. - Are you?

\- Yes – she assured, trying to smile. - I was just thinking… I would love to come to mass with you someday. I mean, sitting with you, so you can talk me through it. Maybe I would understand you better.

Frollo seemed delightfully surprised by her request, though he lifted his eyebrow skeptically:

\- I don't think you mean that. - he affirmed.

Esmeralda chuckled, lowering her head.

\- Well, maybe not _exactly_. But I do wish to understand how you feel about it. I just don't like the part with the priest and all the people. If only we could have the cathedral to ourselves… - she joked, and to her relief, she saw an honest smile appear in Frollo's face too.

Quasimodo intervened:

\- Maybe when I'm done teaching you how to read and write, we can get started on Latin lessons.

\- Oh, I almost forgot! - said Esmeralda suddenly. She reached in her pocket and took out a piece of parchment, where she had written Quasimodo's name. - I made you this yesterday.

Quasimodo took her gift and blushed when he read the paper.

\- Thank you, this is beautiful- he said hoarsely. - I'm so proud of you. You should keep writing!

\- Maybe you two should get some practice time. - Frollo pointed out, and then he asked Esmeralda - Why don't you stay here for the afternoon while I take care of some business? We can meet at the palace for dinner.

\- Well… yes, alright. - Esmeralda agreed, though slightly dissapointed. She had hoped that now the emissary was gone, they could finally get some alone time and talk about everything they had been setting aside. But if she had waited until now, a few more hours wouldn't hurt. And she was eager to spend some time with Quasimodo anyway.

The lad smiled widely, and his joy became infectious.

\- I'll see you for dinner then. - she said to Frollo, and the man nodded and left without saying anything else.

She found his goodbye so cold, but she told herself that they would have plenty of time to talk about it later. The emissary was gone, that's what mattered. Now, they would finally be able to focus on themselves.

With that comforting thought, she followed Quasimodo back to the table, where the bell ringer was getting the writing stuff ready, happier than ever to have everyone he loved safe and sound.


	30. Heaven's Light

When Esmeralda entered the dining room, Frollo wasn't there.

She was surprised, for she had once again lost track of time while writing with Quasimodo, and it was later than she had meant to arrive for dinner. For a moment she thought that maybe Frollo had already eaten and had decided not to wait for her. But it wasn't that late… _was it? _

One of the servants entered the room carrying a jar of water.

\- Excuse me…- she asked the servant, who was immediately alarmed, worried that he might have done something wrong.- Has the Minister already eaten dinner tonight?

\- No, miss. - the man answered briefly, looking at the ground.

\- Is he at the palace? - she inquired, even more confused.

\- No, miss. - the servant repeated.

\- Do you know where he is? - she was starting to get worried.

But, for the third time, the servant replied:

\- No, miss.

\- Alright, thank you. - she said, irritated at his lack of cooperation. The servant left the jar on the table and rushed out of the room.

She wasn't sure what to do. She didn't feel like eating, though her body thought differently. Her stomach was growling. But she didn't know what else she could do either. She had no clue where Frollo could be, he had just said he had business to attend. And apparently, no one at the palace was willing, or able, to provide any information.

She tried to prevent her mind from jumping to the worst, most terrifying thoughts. That he had been hurt somehow, and was now alone or in trouble. She was almost certain that was not the case, though having seen him in his deathbed a week ago was still haunting her.

She decided she was going to eat and try to distract herself from those dark thoughts. If by the end of her meal Frollo hadn't come back, she would decide what to do next.

With that determination in mind, she sat at the table and began eating, trying to focus on the flavor and texture of the food and nothing else. But, slowly but firmly, other kind of thoughts started to crawl from the depths of her mind.

_ What if…_ She shook her head, trying to discard them. But they came back nevertheless._ What if…_ What if Frollo was avoiding her again? He had been so cold at the cathedral earlier… what if that wasn't because of Quasimodo's presence? What if it was because of her? Maybe her words criticizing religion had made him realize that she wasn't what he was looking for. She remembered her confession two nights ago, when she had bared the deepest, darkest parts of her soul to him. Maybe it had been too much. Maybe he was avoiding their conversation because he didn't know how to tell her he had changed his mind.

_What was she doing?_ She scolded herself, dropping her fork and knife and hiding her face in her palms. Why was she torturing herself like this? She had never been this insecure and paranoid before, with anything or anyone. Why was she acting like this now? She knew the answer, though she didn't like it. It was _him._ It was the way she felt about him. She had never cared for anything or anyone that much before,_ that's why_.

She couldn't eat anymore so she got up from the chair and decided to get some air. She would take a walk around the palace, and hopefully find some sign of Frollo.

But when she got to the main hall, she saw a silhouette racing towards her from the dark. She flinched, adopting a defensive position, but then recognized the boy's features.

\- Miss! Sorry to startle you. - Pat said, lifting his palms in a tranquilizing gesture.

\- Pat! What's going on? - she asked, catching her breath.

\- I need you to come with me, quickly. - the boy said with an urgent tone.

Esmeralda's worst fears came back flooding her mind, and she felt her heart pumping adrenaline through her veins. She automatically walked towards the courtyard, but Pat grabbed her hand.

\- No, miss. This way. - he said, pointing to the main door.

\- Where are we going? - she asked, looking around to see if there were any other servants there, for she knew Pat was only supposed to use the back courtyard entrance.

But the hall was empty, and no one stopped them when they stepped out of the front door. The night was cold, for the skies were absolutely clear of clouds. The bright full moon was illuminating the empty streets like a lamp, almost concealing any other brightness from the stars, like an arrogant diva hoarding the stage.

They began walking down the stairs, but Pat was suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around.

\- Here! - he said, taking a big handkerchief from his pocket. - Cover your eyes with this!

\- What? - Esmeralda said, stunned.

But without a warning, the boy quickly climbed up a few steps to situate himself above her and he placed the cloth over her face, tying a knot at the back of her head, blinding her.

\- Pat, what the hell are you doing? - she asked, half way between irritation and amusement.

Once again, the boy didn't answer her. He just took her hand and pulled her forward.

\- Follow me, miss. Don't let go! - he instructed.

Esmeralda obeyed, but she was still worried.

\- Do you know where Frollo is? Are you taking me to him? - she asked, hopeful.

\- Stop asking questions! - Pat laughed.

She relaxed a little. If the boy was in such a good mood, there probably was nothing to worry about. Though this was certainly strange and unexpected, she decided to trust him and see where it all led her.

They walked in silence, except for a few indications that Pat gave her to avoid obstacles in her way. She was cold, and she regretted not taking her cape with her. But her curiosity clearly outweighed her discomfort. She truly had no clue what was going on. Frollo was certainly unpredictable in his emotions, but at least his actions were usually ordered and logical. This sneaking her out in the middle of the night blindfolded was definitely not something she could have seen coming.

Eventually, Pat stopped.

\- Wait. - he told her, letting go of her hand. She fought the urge to remove the handkerchief from her eyes.

She heard a low creaking sound, and felt the air moving around her.

\- Come on. - Pat said, grabbing her hand again and pulling her forward. She felt a change in the ground, from the cobblestones to a smooth, flat surface. She figured they were entering a building. - Alright, you can look now. - Pat indicated with an excited tone.

Esmeralda hastily took of the piece of cloth that was blinding her, and after a second, her eyes adapted to the surrounding darkness.

The floor was made of black and white square polished tiles. Next to her stood a massive column that reached up to the towering ceiling. A row of such columns extended on both sides. The place was in complete silence, so much that her soft breathing reverberated, echoing in the vaults. Though there were no candles lit, the smell of wax filled the air, along with the intoxicating scent of incense. No one else was there, but Esmeralda felt a subtle but incredibly powerful presence surrounding her, as if the cathedral herself was alive and watching her every move. Notre Dame had never looked so hauntingly beautiful.

She turned around just in time to see Pat's back disappearing out of the small lateral door, which closed after him.

She took a few tentative steps towards the main nave, though she felt so small and insecure that the sound of her own footsteps startled her. She looked around, trying to find any trace of Frollo, but the judge was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly she heard an almost inaudible whisper. She focused on the sound and realized it came from the lateral nave, where the Mary altar was placed. She slowly walked over there, and as she got closer, she could finally discern a dark tall silhouette against the black background.

Frollo was standing with his back at her, looking at Mary's figure and muttering a prayer. His hands were pressed together, with his long pale fingers intertwined. Esmeralda moved aside quietly to get a glimpse of his face.

He had a pleading look, as if he was a child begging his mother. She had never seen that expression on him, such innocence and humility. She struggled to discern the words that the man was whispering, but all she could hear was_ "Please, give me the strength to..." _

Her fear returned. Was it possible that he was gathering his strength to _"do the right thing"_ again, like he had done after their first kiss when she told her to leave the palace? She couldn't take the uncertainty anymore.

\- Claude…? - she called in a soft whisper.

Frollo turned around and saw her standing there with a concerned look on her face. He lowered his hands and walked towards her.

\- You made it.- he said with a discreet smile.

She smiled back timidly, with an inquiring look. Frollo walked past her towards the main aisle, and with a wide gesturing movement of his hand, he explained.

\- You said you wished to have the cathedral to ourselves.

She opened her eyes in disbelief.

\- I never thought you would take that literally. - she said astonished.

\- I didn't, at first. - Frollo clarified, before adding. - But then I thought… I would also like that very much. You know, I'm not very keen on multitudes either. I had never been here on my own, without anyone else present.

\- But how did you…? Are we allowed to be here at all? - she asked, worried, looking around to make sure no one was there.

\- I spoke to the archdeacon this afternoon after I left Quasimodo and you. - Frollo explained. - He wasn't sure at first, but I managed to convince him. I told him I was in deep need of some private time for prayer. And I promised no one would ever find out. So finally he gave me the key to the lateral door. The main door is locked, and the archdeacon is sleeping by now. No one will come.

\- What about Quasimodo?

\- He knows we're here, I spoke with him as well after you left, told him I wanted to surprise you.

\- Well, I'm surprised, alright. - she pointed out, and suddenly frowned at him. - Though I was worried about you! You didn't show up for dinner.

\- I was telling Patrice that he should bring you here, and making sure he knew the proper way to the lateral door so no one would see you coming in. - Frollo justified himself with a crooked smile.

She couldn't be mad at him, not when he looked so proud of himself for his plotting skills.

She took a deep breathe, finally relaxing, and looked up at the beautiful ceiling, with the dome and the stone arcs.

\- It's so high… - she sighed with admiration.

\- I know. - Frollo agreed, also fascinated by the cathedral's nocturnal beauty.

Esmeralda rubbed her arms.

\- It's giving me goosebumps. - she mumbled. - This feeling… it's just so beautiful. As if the whole world is holding its breath and right now, only this is real.

Frollo threw her an enigmatic smile.

\- What?- she asked, amused.

\- What you just said… it's exactly what I was thinking. That is how I feel every time I come here to pray. It's kind of overwhelming, but at the same time it feels so…

\- Safe. - she completed his sentence. Now that she knew the story about his father, she realized the deep meaning that word must held for him - Like a sanctuary.

\- Exactly. - Frollo nodded hoarsely. - That's what I wanted you to see tonight. You said you wanted to understand my relationship to God. This is the main feeling of it.

\- I see. - Esmeralda replied, impressed. She knew how important this moment was for him, and felt so honored that he was sharing it with her. - I'm sorry I interrupted your prayer before. - she apologized, embarrassed.

\- Oh, it's okay. - Frollo reassured her with a smile.

\- Can I ask you something? - she asked carefully.

\- Anything. - Frollo nodded.

\- You always speak about God… However, I've noticed that whenever you pray… you pray to His mother, Mary. Is that…? Sorry, maybe this is a stupid question. - she hesitated. - But… I wonder why is that.

Frollo frowned, considering her question. She was right, though he had never noticed this before. He addressed God during mass, when reciting pre-established prayers. But whenever a personal prayer arose from his heart, it was always addressed to Mary.

\- I'm not sure. - he answered honestly. - I think I find Her more… relatable. It's easier for me to confide in a motherly figure, I guess.

\- Why? - Esmeralda asked, lowering her tone.

\- Hmm… - Frollo doubted for an instant. Esmeralda was internally hoping that he would reveal his story himself, so she could comfort him without betraying Quasimodo's trust.

\- You don't have to explain… - she said, watching the judge's internal struggle.

\- I want to. - Frollo replied, inhaling deeply. - My relationship with my father was… complicated, to say the least. I admired him greatly… but my admiration was rooted in fear. I desperately wanted to please him, to get his approval, which I never seemed to get. And he would go out of his way to prove that to me.

\- Did he hit you? - Esmeralda asked cautiously.

\- All the time. - Frollo replied plainly. - I was devastated when they died but… a small part of me also felt relieved that he no longer could hurt me.

\- Of course. - she said in an understanding tone.

She looked at the man, that was gazing at the glass stained windows, in an effort to come back to the present moment. She understood the magnitude of his pain. The reason behind all his constraint and defensiveness against the world. He had been abused, betrayed, and the weigh of the world had been put on his shoulders way too soon. She felt a burning knot in her throat, and she realized that there was absolutely no trace of resentment towards him in her heart. Whatever he had done in the past, right or wrong, all she could see know was a wounded soul trying to do his best.

\- I wish I knew how to pray. - she mumbled involuntarily.

\- Why do you want to pray? - Frollo asked, surprised and kind of amused.

\- I would like to ask for you to never be hurt again. To always feel safe like this. - she confessed, blushing.- But I don't know any prayers for that.

Frollo chuckled warmly, though he was deeply moved by her wish.

\- You don't need any specific prayers. You can just speak from the heart. Though I seem to recall that you did pray once before, here. Didn't you? - he asked her with a mysterious smile.

She paused for an instant, until the memory came back. But how could he know about that?

\- Quasimodo told me he heard you singing. - Frollo explain, as if he could read her mind.

\- Oh…- she said, with her cheeks burning. She wasn't aware that Quasimodo had actually been listening to her that day.- Well, that… it's like you said, it's just what came out of my heart, I guess.

She took a few steps forward, turning around so he wouldn't watch her embarrassment face.

The full moon was now situated right in the middle of the rose stained-glass window. A big column of moonlight came through it, illuminating the floor below with a pearly mixture of white and blue. She walked towards it, and the light reflected on her white shirt and purple skirt, making her raven hair glow. She heard a soft gasp and turned around.

Frollo was staring at her with a deeply moved expression.

\- What? - she asked, timidly.

Frollo walked towards her slowly and silently. There was a reverence in his gaze and his careful movements, as if he was approaching something sacred. Her heart started racing in her chest. No one had ever looked at her like that. And somehow it made her feel stripped of all her human layers and left only with her pure divine essence. She had never thought that spirituality could be so romantic.

He reached her, and with utmost respect, he grabbed a strand of her black hair and placed it behind her ear, so the light would illuminate her face completely.

He looked up at the rose window, and the brightness of its beauty almost hurt his eyes.

\- It's like… heaven's light. - he murmured, fascinated.

Suddenly, his eyes started tearing up. She raised her face to get a better look at him. He looked down at her, and his hands searched for hers.

\- Esmeralda… - he said, and only when the name left his lips he realized he had never pronounced it in her presence before. Something that didn't go unnoticed to her either.

\- This is the first time you call me by my name. - she said, deeply touched. - Not_ witch,_ or _gypsy_, or… just my name.- He looked at her with a guilty embarrassed smile and she smiled back warmly.

\- I was saving it for a special occasion. - he joked, but his voice sounded scratchy with emotion. He opened his mouth to add something, but he couldn't.

\- I wanna say something. - Esmeralda said instead. He nodded, to let her know he was listening. - I know your life hasn't been easy. At all. I know you're in pain, and tired, and lonely.

Frollo was listening carefully, still with watery eyes. She took a small step closer.

\- I wanted to thank you. - she whispered. - I know that you could have left, that day. I felt it.

It took a moment for Frollo to realize she was talking about the day he almost died.

\- And watching you here, now… I realize how much you must have wanted to do it. To reach that heaven's light, and finally be at peace.

\- How do you know…? - Frollo asked, astonished. He had never said a word about his choice when he had woken up.

\- I just do. I felt it.- she repeated. - It felt as if my soul was being torn apart… as if you were pulling from it, and I felt you getting further and further away. I can't explain it. But I knew you were leaving, and then… then you came back. And I understand now how hard that must have been for you.

He nodded slowly, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. Esmeralda raised her hand to wipe it gently.

\- Why did you do it, Claude? - she asked, almost inaudibly. - Why did you gave up heaven for this?

Frollo displayed a sad, tender smile.

\- You know all of that and you don't know this? - he asked her lovingly.

She lowered her gaze, she didn't dare to believe the implicit answer in his question. She felt unworthy of it, and suddenly small and insecure once more. But Frollo gently grabbed her chin and lifted her face to look her in the eyes again.

\- I came back for you. For me, it wouldn't be heaven without you. - he pronounced firmly.

And then he leaned on and kissed her.

It was the softest kiss she had ever received. His lips barely touched hers. His cold fingers still held her chin so delicately, and yet she felt completely nailed to her position, as if he was holding her with an iron grip. She forgot to breathe. She could feel every tiny point in which their lips met, as if they were shiny stars in a whole galaxy contained in the microscopic space between them.

Her heart bursted open, and all the emotion she had been containing so far was released through her body. She threw her arms around his neck and crashed her lips into his, unable to withstand the separation any longer, however small it was. Frollo seemed surprised by her outburst but he responded immediately. His left hand grabbed the back of her neck, while his right hand grasped her waist and pulled her closer. She moaned in his mouth, and he seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into hers.

The sound of their accelerated respiration reverberated throughout the entire silent cathedral. Frollo felt worried for an instant that this could be interpreted as a blasphemy, an offense to God. But it felt so right, so sacred, that there was no way it could be a sin.

Without ever interrupting their kiss, he slowly pushed her towards the nearest column, where he pressed her back against the stone.

He stopped for a second to look at her, and make sure she was comfortable.

\- Don't stop. - she begged, pulling him closer again.

\- Wait! Wait. - he said, grabbing her wrists.

\- No- she protested with a frown. - No more waiting. I can't wait anymore. - she confessed with a pleading tone, that only fueled his desire to insane levels.

\- Neither can I. - he whispered, leaning into her ear. His baritone voice sent a shiver down her spine.- I need you now. Just… not here. - he explained.

\- Let's go then! - she resolved, grabbing his hand firmly and walking straight to the door.

Frollo couldn't help but laugh at her determination, though he was shaking internally. He wasn't lying, he needed her like he hadn't need anything before in his life. But he was absolutely inexperienced in these kind of matters. He felt a surge of crippling terror cooling off his heated blood. Until Esmeralda stopped, noticing his subtle resistance to her fast pace.

\- Are you coming or what? - she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

\- I am.- Frollo replied quickly, and taking another look at her smoldering eyes, all his fears vanished instantly. - I am.


	31. Hellfire

**A/N: 1. Warning! Rated M for explicit content ahead. Readers discretion advised. **

** 2\. Once again, this is my first attempt at writing this kind of scene. I'm not sure where the line between not enough/too much is, but I did my best. Let me know what you think on the comments! ;) **

* * *

_"[...] or else let her be mine _  
_and mine alone."_

The cold nocturnal air helped soothing Frollo's mind. However, his heart was pumping so hard inside his chest, that he was afraid she would hear it. Esmeralda was walking as fast as her foot allowed her, still holding his hand. They were both silent, as if they didn't want to break the moment, and this was just an unavoidable pause.

_What are you doing?_ A small voice inside Esmeralda's head kept asking. Even after everything that had happened, for a moment it seemed completely unbelievable that she was walking by the Minister of Justice's side, heading to his palace, with such intention in mind. If her past self could watch her now, she wouldn't believe her eyes. However, she was absolutely sure of two things. First, that her past self was dead, gone forever. And second, that she liked her new self better. She felt more herself than ever. He had helped her face her true feelings and desires, and now she was determined to fulfill them. He had seen her dark side and had stayed by her side, and she had the feeling that he liked her even more because of that, instead of despite it.

_What are you doing?_ A small voice inside Frollo's head kept asking. Even after everything that had happened, for a moment it seemed completely unbelievable that he was walking by the gypsy dancer's side, heading to his palace, with such intention in mind. If his past self could watch him now, he wouldn't believe his eyes. However, he was absolutely sure of two things. First, that his past self was dead, gone forever. And second, that he liked his new self better. He felt more himself than ever. She had helped her face his true feelings and desires, and now he was finally ready to give himself permission to fulfill them. She had seen the light in him and had fought to bring it to the surface, even when he had attempted to bury it under his fear and insecurity again. She had seen his weakness and chosen to stay by his side anyway.

They were both baffled, nervous and scared. But they were sure.

They entered the palace silently, and climbed the stairs slowly so their footsteps wouldn't be heard. When they reached the top floor, they stopped for a second, and exchanged a doubtful glance. _Your chamber or mine? _

But Esmeralda headed towards his room, with a secret desire to lay in his bed again, the bed where he slept, and also where he had spent sleepless nights fantasizing about having her. It excited her to imagine Judge Claude Frollo turning in his sheets, unable to relax because of his burning desire for her. Her chamber was barely hers, but that was the room he had slept for the past twenty years, his refuge. She wanted to become a part of that.

Frollo followed her without question. He closed the door behind them and locked it. The fireplace was lit, as the servants always left it before he went to bed. While he was making sure the door was properly locked, she walked towards the flames, to warm herself.

He walked slowly towards her illuminated figure, with a flashback of her naked body also illuminated by the flames. He felt his throat dry and swollen, as an impending thirst took over him. But he was blocked, he didn't know what his next moves should be. She hadn't said a word during the whole walk there… maybe she was having second thoughts?

But then Esmeralda looked at him and he was certain that she wasn't. Her stare was so powerful and compelling, his body walked towards her on its own. But when he was about to lean in and kiss her, she took a step back.

\- Sit there. - she asked him, pointing towards the armchair.

He looked confused, but obliged her request.

She smiled enigmatically and removed the green scarf she was wearing around her hip, over her purple skirt.

She then walked to him and climbed on his lap, the exact same way she had done at the festival.

He was shocked, realizing what she was doing.

Sure enough, she threw the scarf behind his head, and surrounding his neck with it, she pulled him closer like she did that day. She leaned in, until their eyes were inches away.

\- Here we are again. - she whispered hoarsely.

Frollo was finding it hard to breathe. He had dreamed about that day over and over, recalling her weight on his legs, her warmth next to his body, her playful tempting gaze, and each time his blood had boiled with the frustration of her getting away, proving she was only teasing him. It had been that same frustration what had drove him absolutely mad and sent him in a rampant search for her, just to get her back to where she was just now standing. Where she belonged.

\- What now?- he asked, hardly able to produce any sound.

\- I was hoping you'd tell me. - Esmeralda answered with a crooked smile.- What would you have liked to happen next?

\- I wanted… I want you. - he whispered, unable to hold her gaze.

\- Then… - she replied, lowering her face to look him in the eye again. - Take me.

He didn't think it twice.

His hands moved from the arms of the chair to grab her hips. He moved closer to the edge of the seat, and pulled her body against his. She surrounded his waist with her legs, squeezing her knees to get a better grip of his back. Frollo grunted when he felt her thighs at his sides. His hands moved up her back and he pressed her chest against him as well.

Esmeralda leaned in to meet his lips. She grabbed his neck with both hands, as she dove deep into his mouth. Their tongues started battling for space. He tasted her sweet flavor and it drove him crazy. He stopped for a second to catch his breath, but her accelerated breathing only made it harder.

Harder, indeed. She felt a growing hardness between her thighs, and involuntarily, she pressed herself against it, which made Frollo gasp loudly. He then grabbed her legs firmly and got up from the chair, lifting her whole body in the air.

\- Wow! - Esmeralda exclaimed, startled at his surprising strength. - Don't let go!- she begged, with a nervous laugh.

\- I'm never letting you go, woman. - Frollo replied in her ear with a low, velvety voice.

He walked to the bed and placed her carefully there. He then removed his outer layer of heavy robes, that were becoming suffocating as the heat inside him increased.

\- Hmm… it's only fair. - she affirmed, taking her hands to the buttons on her white shirt.

Though the room was dark, the reflections from the flames reached the bed and painted the whole scene in a glowing orange light that only made her caramel skin look even more beautiful, as if it was covered in golden dust.

Frollo felt an automatic impulse to look away, to grant her privacy. He internally laughed at himself immediately after, equally delighted and nervous to realize that she _wanted_ him to watch her. So he looked again, as she bared her upper half. She let the shirt fall over the edge of the bed with a graceful movement that made her hair move and fall to her front, partially covering her neck and shoulders. Frollo's eyes followed its movement and then traveled down to her breasts. He observed amazed how her dark nipples hardened under his gaze.

Esmeralda carefully watched Frollo's expression as he allowed himself to pause and look at every inch of her skin. She saw the admiration and desire in his eyes and it turned her on even more. She knew the judge had never been with a woman before, and she felt proud of herself when she realized she was exceeding his expectations.

\- Come here with me. - she pleaded, making room in the bed for him to sit beside her.

He did, and their lips met again. She noticed that his hands were much more careful now that her skin was exposed, as if he didn't dare to touch her. She accepted the challenge, determined to make him abandon all his restraints. So she kissed him deeply, avidly, stroking his tongue with hers, biting on his lower lip while moaning softly.

Frollo felt he was losing his mind. Her sudden hunger for him was fueling the scorching intensity of his inner fire, and suddenly he lost awareness of what he was doing. Before he knew it, he had pushed her down so she would lay on her back, and he was laying on top of her, his hands traveling free through her chest, her waist and her belly.

Esmeralda was writhing in pleasure, feeling his gentle but firm grip on her breasts, as she lifted her hips to feel the hardness between Frollo's legs. The man had never been so attractive to her as he was now, finally releasing his burning passion free. If his usual cold composure was appealing and magnetic to her, this was awakening a whole new level of desire, that she had never felt before. She wanted him so badly, that her own skin seemed to be an obstacle between them.

But then, his hand journeyed ever further down her hips and met the edge of her skirt. Frollo suddenly stopped, regaining his awareness. He was paralyzed, and he pulled away from her kiss. She emitted a soft moan of complaint.

\- What is it? - Esmeralda asked, concerned.

\- I… I can't- Frollo mumbled, with a strangled voice.

He rolled to her side and laid on his back, looking at the ceiling, still with an accelerated breathing.

She quickly turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

\- Hey, it's okay. - she reassured him. - What's wrong?

But Frollo was frozen. His mind had intervened abruptly in the middle of his animal instincts, to harshly remind him that he didn't know what he was doing. He had never allowed himself to take part in any kind of activity if he wasn't sure he would excel at it. He was a very intelligent man, so he was used to excelling in everything he attempted to do. And though it may not looked like it, he had always been a strong, healthy man too. He had been the only one able to control his horse, to manage the beast's strength and power and subdue it. But this was different. Nor his mind neither his physical qualities could help him succeed at this. He needed a specific set of skills, a set of skills that he knew next to nothing about. He wasn't ready. He knew the basics about human reproduction, but he had no clue how to please a woman, how to properly touch her body to make her enjoy the experience. And he was pretty sure that Esmeralda had been with other men before him. The single thought made him sick, not because of her, but because he was terrified to be compared to them and lose.

\- Claude. - she insisted, getting worried at his lack of response.

He just couldn't do it. _He was an idiot,_ he scolded himself. He should have done some research in the matter, read some books, _something!_ But the truth is, he had never actually believed that he would really get to the situation where he would need that kind of knowledge. Up until now, deep down, he had always believed that Esmeralda would eventually wake up from her stupor and realize that he was an old man with nothing to offer. But somehow, miraculously, her attraction towards him had proven to be real, and now he was going to let her down. If he stopped now, she would be terribly dissapointed. But if he kept going, he would demonstrate her that he was utterly inexperienced and unskilled and she would be dissapointed too. There was no way out.

\- Claude! - she yelled, softly hitting his chest with her palm. - Are you okay? - she asked, filled with worry.

\- I'm sorry. - he murmured at last. - I'm so sorry.

\- What's going on? - she demanded to know.

\- I can't- he repeated. - I should go. Or… you should go. - he corrected himself, realizing they were in his own room.

\- What…? - she asked, hurt. - You… you want me to leave?

\- No, but… - he hesitated, and he sounded like he was at the verge of tears.

\- Claude, please. - she said, kneeling beside him, and covering herself with a sheet. - Tell me what's troubling you. I want to help.

But Frollo looked away from her, unable to hold her inquiring gaze. He couldn't tell her. Telling her would be as bad as showing her his lack of skill. But he also realized that if he didn't say what was on his mind, she would feel like he was rejecting her.

\- I don't want you to leave. - he insisted, answering her previous question.

\- Then I won't. - she reassured him, getting closer.

\- But you will. - he affirmed darkly. - Maybe not now, but… - his voice cracked, unable to say his next words; _"but once you realize the truth about me, you will."_

\- Is that what this is about? - Esmeralda asked, beginning to understand. - You're worried that I'm gonna leave you?

Frollo didn't respond, too ashamed to even nod with his head. But his silence was enough of a confirmation for her. Esmeralda blew loudly, suddenly furious.

\- You're unbelievable! - she accused him, reaching down to get her shirt back, and putting her arms on the sleeves, though she left the front unbuttoned.- What else do you want from me?

\- What? - Frollo asked, puzzled.

\- What else do I need to do to prove you can trust me?

\- This isn't about you! - he tried to justify himself. - I trust you.

\- No, you don't! You can't even tell me what's wrong! - she replied, angrily.

Frollo bit his lower lip, feeling the tension building up inside him, threatening to take over his mind. He didn't know what to do or what to say, but not doing or saying anything wasn't an option either. She saw the pain and the struggle in his eyes. She observed him silently for a few seconds, and then a wave of compassion soothed her anger. She was irritated at his lack of trust, but she realized that he was the first victim of his self-imposed isolation. He ought to be feeling so alone.

\- Claude. - she called, lowering her tone.

He felt the change in her mood and looked at her, to find her emerald eyes looking at him tenderly.

\- I want to help you. But I can't always be the one to fight for this, to swallow my feelings so I can help you with yours. You have to meet me halfway. You have to tell me when something's wrong. - she explained, softly.

\- You're right. - he said, with a sad tone.

\- I know. Look, just now… You know how I feel? I feel so insecure. I feel like you saw me and suddenly something made you stop wanting to be with me.

\- God, no. - Frollo protested, raising up in the bed and sitting in front of her. - It's not you. How could it be you? - he said, as if stating the obvious.

\- But I don't know that, 'cause you don't tell me. - she replied with a sad smile.- So I tell you how I'm feeling. It's not easy to admit it, you know? But I do it, because I want you to know, I want you to know me. Because I love you.

Frollo's heart stopped at her naturally when she just said those words.

His soul started trembling and he felt a terrifying crack extending rapidly across his inner walls. His mind fought with all its strength to maintain control over him, but she had unleashed an ancient power, an ineffable force that had been dormant inside of him for as long as he could remember, buried in the depths of his core. And now it was awoke, Frollo knew it was only a matter of time until his mind was defeated once and for all.

But for the first time in his life, he didn't care. He didn't care that he was going to lose control, because he felt that there was something even greater awaiting him at the other side. And he couldn't wait to reach it.

His hands grabbed Esmeralda's surprised face and pulled her closer almost violently. He kissed her desperately, as if her mouth held the only air left in the world. He leaned backwards, dragging her alone. Her breasts were pressed onto his chest, and he realized he wanted to feel her skin, so his hands left her face to search for the end of his thin inner robe. She separated herself from him to allow him some space, and asked:

\- Are you sure you want to…?

\- Shut up.- he ordered, with a crooked, meaningful smile.

\- Yes, Sir. - she responded quickly, and she rushed to help him remove his clothes.

The last remaining bit of his insecurity rose again when she took of his robe and left him completely naked. He anxiously watched her expression, but she wasn't examining his body. Esmeralda was smart enough to fight her eagerness to explore his whole body. She had noticed Frollo's insecurity, and her priority now was to make him feel as badly wanted as she actually wanted him. So she rushed to his lips again, while removing her own shirt so they would be skin on skin.

Frollo was relieved to feel her urgency, though slightly concerned that she hadn't even taken a peek at the rest of his body. _Maybe she was afraid she wouldn't like the view?_ But then he felt her hand reaching down while she kissed him deeply, and as she softly grabbed his manhood, she let out a small surprised gasp. He felt immediately better, and any trace of his insecurity was gone at last.

With a renewed impulse, he clasped her legs with his, and grabbing her neck, he rolled to the side to get above her.

She smiled at him playfully, biting her lower lip.

He smiled back with a devilish grin and he took both of her wrists and placed them above her head, holding them together with the strong grip of his left hand, while his right hand moved under her waist and rose her lower back to press her against himself.

She played along, pretending to resist him, twisting her body to get away from his grip. He pressed his hips harder against her, and she moaned loudly. He lowered his head to her neck and kissed her under the ear, feeling her accelerated pulse on his lips. The tip of his tongue slid down slowly, making her shiver with pleasure and need. He reached the hollow spot at the base of her neck and impulsively bit her.

Esmeralda let out a loud cry, and began rubbing her hips against his hardness, desperately wanting to feel every inch of it.

\- God, Claude, take it off- she begged, and without hesitation, Frollo ripped away her skirt, while she shook her legs to remove it completely.

**_Finally,_** they both thought at once. There were no clothes left, nothing between them but burning skin.

The mood suddenly changed, as they both felt the sacredness and importance of this moment. Frollo released her hands, placing his on both sides of her head to be able to hold himself above her and look at her face.

She held his gaze, while her hands slowly traveled from his shoulders down his back.

But then, an unexpected wave of sadness hit her hard, as if she suddenly knew with absolute certainty that she was going to lose him. Her breathing began to accelerate again, but Frollo could tell something was off.

\- Are you okay? - he whispered.

\- Yes. - she nodded quickly, but her eyes betrayed her when they started to tear up. - No. - she admitted. - I'm afraid.

\- Oh – he said, unsure what to do. He moved away a little, but he felt her fingers holding on to his waist, asking him to stay put. - We don't have to…

\- No. - she interrupted him. - It's not that.

She sighed, frustrated, fighting the tears that wanted to escape her eyes._ This is so stupid,_ she scolded herself internally.

\- What then? - Frollo asked kindly.

But she was too embarrassed to admit it out loud. She was afraid that once he had quenched his thirst for her body, he would realize that she was not that big of a deal. She would never be as intelligent, or well-read as he was. She knew nothing about so many things, and she didn't fit in in his world. She had always felt like she had the upper hand nevertheless because she held the seductive power in her hands. But what would happen once he had conquered his goal? How long until he realized she actually didn't have much else to offer?

She suddenly was certain that once she surrendered herself to him, the countdown to losing him would start running. She felt like a fraud, a cheater who had lured him into her spell only to be caught later, being just not enough. She couldn't stand the thought that someday, he would stop looking at her like that. The way he looked at her had helped her feel real for the first time in her life, and she wasn't ready to give that up.

\- Is this payback? - Frollo tried to joke, nervously, referring to his moment of doubt earlier. But Esmeralda couldn't laugh.

She had her eyes closed, so he wouldn't see into her soul like she knew he could do. She felt the urge to run, run away and never look back. To keep the memory and live from it, instead of risking losing it forever.

She opened her eyes, intending to carve every single detail of Frollo's face into the deepest part of her heart, where neither time nor oblivion could erase it.

But then, as she was focusing on his piercing eyes, something started to happen. Maybe it was just a visual effect, because of the darkness and the reflection of the flames on him… But it looked as if his features were fading, as if the whole scene was getting blurry, except for his eyes, that suddenly became brighter.

She inhaled sharply, blinking repeatedly, but the image remained the same. The whole room was vanishing, and only his eyes were clear and sharp. He didn't look like Frollo anymore. He didn't look like anybody.

He was just there, a pure presence. And she felt like she recognized that presence from a long, long time ago. As if they had spent lifetimes finding each other, and loving each other every time. But it was even more than that. She felt like there was no separation between him and herself. Like they were just one essence, and she knew him the same way she knew her own insides.

And then she realized the love she felt for him had always been there, not only since the festival, but _always_. Even when she didn't know him, she loved him. Short of breath, she realized that the emptiness she had always felt wasn't because of her parent's abandonment, but because somehow, she was missing him. As if they had been made to be together, and her soul just knew, even if she hadn't met him yet. But the craziest part was that, as she dove deep into his gaze, she suddenly knew with absolute certainty that he felt the same way. And she understood then the absolute madness he must have felt when he thought he was going to lose her, and maybe never see her again. Because she was feeling it right now at the perspective of losing him too. The terror was so intense that she could have burned down entire cities in the blink of an eye, just to ensure it didn't come true.

\- Esmeralda? - he asked, cautiously.

The spell was broken and she snapped back to reality. His features appeared again, his face above hers, and his body at her hand's reach. His eyes were filled with worry and confusion. But hers were finally calmed. For she had realized that whatever they were to each other, it went way beyond their physical selves. The age difference, the social status difference, or how many books she had read, none of it mattered at all. They belonged together. It all made sense now, even if she couldn't understand it rationally.

She had felt empty her entire life, and now she knew why, all that mattered was that she wanted to be filled by him, in _every_ way possible.

So, with a triumphant smile, she grabbed his hips again and pulled him towards her, and finally, his manhood reached her entrance.

Frollo gasped loudly, caught off guard. He was paralyzed, feeling her warmth and softness against his most sensitive skin.

He threw her an inquiring look, to make sure she wanted it. In response, she took his face between her hands and pulled him forward to kiss him again. He drank from her lips, and his body started to move involuntarily, his hips going back and forth as he slid between her legs, gliding over her entrance and her folds. She accompanied his movements with her own hips, increasing the pressure and rhythm.

Their breathing turned into panting, and their kiss became erratic, almost animal. He leaned closer, and began kissing her neck again, and she took the chance to whisper in his ear:

\- I want you, Claude. Take me – she begged.

He didn't need to hear it twice. In a delicate move, he raised his hips to adjust his position, and slowly started pushing down. If her outside was warm, her inside was burning like hellfire. And like hellfire, it was torture to restrain his movements to remain gentle.

But Esmeralda was so wet at this point that she felt no trace of discomfort at all, even when his size was challenging to take in. She moved her hips upward to help him access her fully. He retired a little, and then pushed again all the way in.

They both moaned loudly when they felt their bodies fitting so perfectly, and every nervous termination screamed in pleasure.

They smiled at each other, almost laughing in relief that, after all the struggle, they were finally together. There was nothing standing between them anymore. They were literally one.

They kissed again, and their instincts took over. There was nothing left to think, nothing left to wonder, nothing left to fear. They were just two human souls inside two human bodies, desperate for each other.

If Frollo had ever worried that he wouldn't know what to do, now it all seemed so stupid. His body knew exactly what to do.

They found a common rhythm, slow at first to feel every single movement, and then gradually faster, as the intensity of their passion grew. Their respective groaning only fueled their desire to insane levels.

Soon, Frollo felt the pressure accumulating and he fought the urge to go faster. He didn't want this moment to end. He wanted it to last forever. But apparently, the long wait his body had had to endure to get to this moment came with a price.

Esmeralda felt his sudden change of speed and opened her eyes, previously closed in ecstasy.

\- What's wrong? - she asked, hoarsely.

\- Nothing's wrong. - he explained, catching his breath. - I just need to slow down… - he said, embarrassed.

\- Please don't- she begged, understanding what he didn't say- Let it happen.

\- But I… - he began, but his protest was shut by a deep, passionate kiss. His body responded immediately, eager to let go.

\- We have all our lives ahead. - Esmeralda whispered, breaking out from the kiss and displaying a tempting smile. - Let go. - she pleaded firmly.

He still hesitated. So she played her last card.

\- Claude, I need you to take me. Now.

Her demanding tone finally threw him over the edge. She_ needed_ him. The man with the iron constraint, who had lived in chains his entire life, felt said chains starting to crumble down under the intensity of his desire and his love for the woman below him. And then, the words his mother had told him during his near death experience reverberated in his head _"Anyone can die for love… but can you **live** for love?"_

And he realized the answer was **_yes_**. Yes, he was ready to live, in all its beautiful, terrifying, uncontrollable meaning.

So he let go of his control.

He felt his body bursting with relief, as it began to pick up the speed again. Esmeralda grabbed on to him, grasping his shoulders to not get thrown away by the intensity of his assaults.

She lost control as well. The utter physical pleasure added to the indescribable emotion of feeling him claim her as his. She surrendered herself with a scream, and felt her eyes rolling inside her head while massive electric waves rushed throughout her entire body.

Frollo felt her inner spasms and it was the last thing he perceived before an uncontrollable surge emerged from his core, taking over his whole being. He gave into the current, and with some final pushes, all his inner walls bursted open, exploding into a million pieces, releasing his essence inside of her, filling her up to the brim.

She felt his explosion and her own receding waves of pleasure came flooding back. She dug her nails deep into his flesh and cried his name.

Frollo had never heard a more glorious music that the sound of her strangled voice calling him in between cries of ecstasy.

When the intensity of their climax finally started to decrease, they both searched for each other's eyes.

\- God… - Esmeralda mumbled, light headed.

Frollo couldn't help to feel proud of himself when he saw the state she was in. Esmeralda saw the smug, self-sufficient grin that appeared on his face and bursted out laughing.

\- What? - he asked, suddenly self-conscious again.

\- Nothing- she said, still laughing. She leaned forward to kiss him again sweetly. - I just… I love you.

He was once again mesmerized by the sound of those words, words he had never heard addressed at him before that night.

\- You do? - he couldn't help but ask, still finding it hard to believe it.

She looked surprised by his doubt.

\- Well… yes? - she answered, as if stating the obvious, while gesturing towards her naked body that she had just shared with him.

And then, a brand new smile appeared in Frollo's face, a smile she had never seen before, for it was made of pure, uncontaminated, happiness. He looked suddenly younger, lighter, as if all this time he had been wearing a heavy mask that dulled the glow in his eyes, and he had just taken it off.

\- Esmeralda… - he said, still inside her, but placing his weight on his arm so he wouldn't crush her. - I love you too.- he confessed, also saying those words for the first time in his life.

\- Oh, I know. - she stated, downplaying it jokingly, though her heart was jumping up and down with joy.

\- You clever witch. - he stroke back, and she bursted laughing again, playfully hitting his arm with her palm.

He kissed her again and then slowly exited her body, laying on his side and covering them both with a blanket.

\- So… is this what you had in mind? - she asked then, lifting an eyebrow, taking him back to the previous moment at the armchair, and also to the festival.

\- Well… pretty much, yes. - he admitted blushing.

\- Oh, so that's it? - she teased him, pretending to be disappointed.

\- Oh no, woman. - he replied, in a deep low tone, throwing her a devilish smile. - I have only begun.


	32. The Court of Miracles

\- You look different. - a scoffing voice remarked from the alley.

Esmeralda turned around when she heard Clopin's words, hopeful. But when she saw his face, she immediately realized the man wasn't in a friendly disposition. She opened her mouth to answer, but no appropriate words came to her mind.

The gypsy walked towards her, circling her figure, examining her looks.

\- I see the palace's life is treating you well. - he pointed out, bitterly. - They even got you to start wearing shoes! - he mocked her.

\- Well, after almost cutting my foot in half, I began to see its benefits. - she defended herself.- My wound's better, by the way, thank you for asking. - she said, sarcastically.

Though she had been walking perfectly for a couple weeks now, it hurt her that Clopin seemed to not even remember the incident. After all, she had been seriously ill.

But her adoptive brother's face was clouded by resentment, and he showed no signs of caring about it at all.

\- Frollo seems to be doing a lot better too. - he commented, casually.

\- Why do you say that? - she asked cautiously.

\- I saw him last Sunday, after mass. He seemed delighted to see me. - Clopin answered in a snarky tone.

Esmeralda recalled the moment she had saw his puppeteer caravan at the square, outside the cathedral. He must have seen Frollo after that, once she got back inside Notre Dame to avoid running into the archdeacon. Almost a week had passed, and, to be honest, she hadn't thought about Clopin until that very moment.

In her defense, it had been a very intense week. Frollo and her had finally given in to their mutual desire, and ever since that first night, they had been making up for the lost time. She had gotten used quickly to her new routine. During the day, Frollo belonged to the citizens of Paris, and he was working harder than ever to provide justice, though his ways to do so had become more merciful. And then, after sunset, he would come back to the palace, where she was awaiting him eagerly, after a day of practicing her writing and reading skills with Quasimodo, whom she was about to meet right now. Or hanging out with Pat, getting to know about horses, whom she was growing fond of.

They would have dinner, quite hastily to say the least, and then rushed to their private chambers. She felt that being with him was some sort of addiction. It wasn't just the fact that she was enjoying their physical connection way more than anything she had experienced before. It was also the fact that every passing day, the feeling she had had that first night with him was reinforced. The feeling that they were somehow two parts of a whole, and now that they had finally reunited, she felt more powerful and alive than ever. The love she was feeling was overwhelming, and she felt like it was cleansing her of everything that wasn't her true essence.

She felt different, and at the same time, she recognized herself more than ever.

\- So… - Clopin interrupted her thoughts. - What is your excuse now?

\- What? - Esmeralda asked, baffled, trying to remember what they were talking about.

\- If Frollo is already better, - Clopin repeated – what is your excuse now to remain at the palace? You said you wanted to make sure he made it. Well… _unfortunately_, he did. So, why are you still there? - he asked bitterly, though she could hear the hidden pain and confusion in his tone.

\- Well, it's not like I have anywhere else to go, do I? - she replied, throwing him a meaningful look.

Clopin snorted loudly.

\- I have a feeling that you wouldn't leave even if you had, am I wrong?- he inquired, with a smug grin.

Esmeralda felt suddenly tired and irritated.

\- What do you want me to say, Clopin? Why are you even talking to me if you hate me that much?

The man didn't answer. He just walked over to a metal bar that hanged from a wall, and jumped to grab it and swing back and forth hanging from his hands. Esmeralda knew him well enough to know he liked to distract himself with acrobatics when he was restless.

She sighed, exasperated, and walked towards him.

\- Seriously, Clopin, I don't understand. First you call me a traitor, then you send me the blanket. Yes, I know it was you. - she quickly added before he could protest. - And I thought that maybe that meant you were willing to fix things between us… But now you come and start throwing accusations again. I'm lost here. - she said, throwing her hands in the air.

\- **_You_** are lost? - Clopin repeated with disbelief. - I am the one who's been wrecking his brains trying to find an explanation as to why the hell you would choose the man who nearly killed us all and kidnapped you, over your damn family!

\- It's not like that. - she mumbled, protesting.

Clopin jumped back to the ground, rubbing his hands and facing her.

\- Then how is it? I'm dying to hear a single reason that makes sense.

Esmeralda held his gaze, evaluating how reasonable it would be to tell him the truth. She decided to take it slow.

\- Well… for starters, he didn't kill us.

\- He would have! - Clopin yelled.

\- But he didn't! - she desperately tried to defend the judge. - And he didn't kidnap me either. I chose to stay, I chose to accept his deal.

\- Well, when the other option is a mass execution, you don't really have much of a choice, _do you?_ \- Clopin stated.

Esmeralda took a deep breath, struggling to remain calmed. She knew the gypsy had a very valid point. She tried to switch strategies.

\- Clopin… - she said, in a pleading tone. - I'm not trying to justify anything he's done. You're right, it was wrong, there's no other way to look at it. But that doesn't make him a bad person, it's more complicated than that.

\- Is it? - Clopin asked, skeptically.

\- Yes. Think about it for a second, will you? It's me. Do you think I would … - suddenly she stopped herself, realizing she was going to say _"love"_. Clopin noticed her hesitation.

\- You would _what_? - he invited her to continue, harshly.

\- I would defend him, if I didn't have a valid reason? - she completed her sentence. - He has had a very hard life, you know?

\- Oh, sorry then! How would I possibly understand what a _hard life_ is when mine has been a walk in the park! - he yelled, ironically.

\- God! - she exclaimed, frustrated. - You're not even trying to listen!

\- Forgive me, Esmeralda, but it's going to take a lot more than "a hard life" for me to even consider what you're saying. - Clopin pointed out darkly.

\- All I want you to consider is that he's much more than what you see on the surface. You don't know him.

\- No. - Clopin agreed, before adding. - And I don't know you either.

\- You do, Clopin! You know me. Why is it so hard for you to trust me on this?

He looked at her with a sad, resentful expression.

\- I don't know what he's buying you with. Expensive clothes, or fancy food, or God knows what. But the Esmeralda I knew would have never turned her back on her values. Whoever you are now, you're no longer my sister. - he stated.

Esmeralda felt a deadly calm descending over her, like a cold dense fog.

\- Maybe you're right. - she said slowly. - Maybe I never was.

She turned around, feeling her heart hardening with every step she took.

\- Wait! - she heard the man calling her behind her back.

\- What. - she asked harshly.

Clopin walked slowly towards her. He no longer looked angry, or bellicose. Just deeply sad and dissapointed.

\- You gave your life for us. - he said in a low tone. - You traded your freedom for our safety. We will never forget that. If now that you got your freedom back you want to spend it on that… _man_. - he pronounced carefully.- then, as Quasimodo said, it's your choice. I have to respect that.

\- Thank you – she said with a single nod.

\- But you're making a huge mistake. - he warned her, getting closer, and suddenly she saw the desperate worry in his eyes - He is a murderous monster.

\- He's… - she protested, wanting to deny his affirmation. But, with a sharp pain in her heart, she realized she couldn't. So instead, she said. - He's just doing his job.

\- I'm not talking about the executions.- Clopin said, enigmatically. - Esmeralda... he's not who you think he is.

\- What are you talking about? - she said, feeling a surge of terror freezing the blood in her veins.

Clopin held her gaze for a second, and then he shook his head, as his expression darkened.

\- You should ask the archdeacon.

* * *

When Frollo arrived to Quasimodo's quarters, he was surprised to find the lad alone, concentrated on his carving of a piece of wood.

\- Good evening.- the judge greeted him.

\- Oh, master! - Quasimodo flinched, startled. - I hadn't heard you come in!

\- How was your day, did you two have fun? Where is Esmeralda? - he asked, coming close to the table.

\- Esmeralda? - Quasimodo repeated, puzzled. - I didn't see her today. - he said.

Frollo looked baffled.

\- What do you mean? She told me this morning that she was spending the day with you.

\- Yes, that's what we had planned, but she didn't show up. I thought she was busy doing other things. - Quasimodo explained, shrugging.

\- That's weird. - Frollo commented, tracing back his steps mentally.

He had spent the morning out in the city, but had come back to the Palace of Justice for lunch. When he had left his horse at the stables, only Pat was there, so she couldn't have been with the stable boy. And she was definitely not at the palace for lunch. Where was she? He felt an uncomfortable nervousness taking over his stomach.

\- Did she mention if she wanted to go somewhere else? - he asked Quasimodo, but the lad shook his head.

\- Maybe she is with her family… - Quasimodo ventured tentatively.

\- That's unlikely. - Frollo stated, reminiscing about the way Esmeralda's brother had looked at him when they saw each other at the cathedral a few days ago.

\- Then where do you think she is? - the bell ringer asked.

Frollo shook his head, absently, trying to ponder despite the incoming worry that was filling his mind.

\- Did you say something to her? - Quasimodo inquired out of the blue.

\- What?- Frollo asked, puzzled.

\- It wouldn't be the first time you two misunderstand each other. - Quasimodo explained, throwing him a meaningful look.

\- No...- Frollo answered, replaying in his mind the last conversation they had had, that morning during breakfast. She had said goodbye with a swift kiss, throwing him a promising look as they agreed to meet at the cathedral later so he could pick her up and bring her to the palace that night. - No, we were good.

\- Hmm… - Quasimodo mumbled, noticing the way Frollo had pronounced that "_we_". It definitely sounded like more than a simple pronoun. He smiled internally, glad that things were finally going well between them. - Then, I'm sure she will be waiting for you at home.

\- I don't know… - Frollo said doubtfully. - I have a bad feeling. - he murmured, and just in that moment, a bright white light illuminated the interior of the bell tower, followed by a loud thunder sound.

Quasimodo chuckled nervously.

\- That's ominous. - he tried to joke, but Frollo's face was getting paler by the second. - Hey, - Quasimodo called him softly. - You should go home, before it starts to rain. She's probably already there, wondering where you are.

Frollo hesitated, but he didn't have any other plan anyway.

\- Look – Quasimodo insisted. - If she's not there, come back and I'll help you look for her, okay?

\- Alright. - Frollo yielded at last, and he turned to the ladder quickly.

It was only half an hour later when he showed up at Quasimodo's tower again, soaking and anxious.

\- Let me get my cape. - Quasimodo said without even asking.

Frollo had ridden his horse, so Quasimodo had to climb to the massive animal as well. His low height made it really hard to reach the horse's back, and he would have laughed at himself if it weren't for the circumstances.

\- Where are we going? - he asked instead, trying to use the cape to cover himself from the rain.

\- I don't know. - Frollo replied truthfully. He had just ridden to Notre Dame automatically, without considering his next move.

\- Maybe we should try the Court of Miracles? - Quasimodo asked, hesitating.

\- Hmm..- Frollo grunted. The Court of Miracles was the last place he wished to visit again, and its inhabitants probably felt the same way about him. But even if Esmeralda wasn't there, it was likely that the gypsies knew where to find her, for they knew pretty much everything that went down on the streets of Paris.

So, with a sigh of surrender, he pointed his horse towards the graveyard.

* * *

The entrance to the catacombs was apparently clear, but nevertheless, Frollo hesitated to descend the stairs.

\- You should go ahead. - he told Quasimodo. - They know you. If they see me, they may run away and then we'll never find her.

\- Alright. - Quasimodo agreed. - But come behind me. If you stay here alone, they could seize the opportunity. - he said, concerned.

\- Go. I'll follow. - Frollo instructed him, nodding.

Quasimodo descended the stairs carefully, but there was no trace of people down there. He grabbed one of the torches from the wall, and took a few steps through the main corridor. He then realized that he had no clue of what was the right direction to go. The only time he had been down there was when he had come with Phoebus, to warn the gypsies of Frollo's ambush. But that time they had taken them as prisoners, and blindfolded them so they wouldn't know where they were going.

So he resolved to go back, up the stairs.

\- What's going on? - Frollo asked, confused.

\- There's no one guarding the entrance. - Quasimodo explained. - You should come with me. I don't know the way and if I get lost I won't know how to get back at you and you won't know what happened.

\- Okay. - Frollo nodded, and he began descending the stairs along his adoptive son.

\- This way. - he pointed when they got to the catacombs, gesturing towards a side corridor. - I do remember the way.

So they walked in that direction, trying not to step on the bones and skulls on the floor, among the stinking water. Frollo was holding his collar up to cover his mouth, trying not to breathe in the smell. Quasimodo was doing the same thing with his cape, in addition to holding the torch up.

They walked in silence for several minutes, excepting the few brief indications that Frollo whispered. Just when Quasimodo was beginning to fear they were lost, they started hearing a distant murmur, that grew in intensity as they moved forward. Then, after a curve, a dim light appeared in the darkness, coming from the main cave.

\- There. - Frollo pointed.

\- Let me go first. - Quasimodo said, stopping him with a hand gesture.

He walked past the judge and into the entrance of the cave. It was much less crowded than the last time he was there. He then remembered that Esmeralda had said that most of the gypsies had left Paris. Only a few tents here and there remained.

A small group of women were chatting in a corner. There was no one else around, so he walked towards them, clearing his throat to reveal his presence.

\- Excuse me… - he said nervously.

The women reacted instantly, flinching and grabbing each other.

\- What do you want? - one of them asked in a distrustful tone.

\- It's the bell ringer! - another yelled.

\- Clopin! - called a third one.

\- I come as a friend! I'm looking for Esmeralda! - Quasimodo quickly explained, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture.

\- She's not here. - Clopin's voice said, emerging from a tent. - How did you get here? - he asked, suspicious.

\- I helped him. - Frollo intervened, stepping into the light. The women screamed and run to their respective tents to gather their children. Frollo kept a safe distance, watching Clopin adopting a defensive posture. - We just want to know where she is.

\- She's not here. - the gypsy repeated, in a menacing tone – and neither should you. You're not welcomed here. - he hissed.

\- I'm well aware, thank you. - Frollo stated, irritated. - Do you know where she is?

\- What makes you think I would tell you? - Clopin said, while looking nervously at both sides, probably searching for soldiers.

\- I've been benevolent. - Frollo said, lowering his tone and taking a few steps closer. - But make no mistake. I am still the Minister of Justice. - he pointed out in a threatening voice.

\- What he means is – Quasimodo intervened, trying to calm the growing tension. -, we come in peace. We are just worried about Esmeralda. Do you have any idea on where she could be?

\- Again, what makes you think I would tell you if I did?

\- So you don't. - Frollo affirmed, getting impatient.

\- No. - Clopin confessed, before smiling viciously. - But if she's smart, she's probably getting as far from you as possible.

\- Alright. - Quasimodo interrupted him, foreseeing another fight between the two men. - Thanks for your help. Please, if you see her, let her know we're looking for her.

He turned around, willing to leave, but Frollo grabbed his arm to stop him. His hawk-like stare was fixed on Clopin's cruel smile.

\- He knows something.- he muttered, so only Quasimodo would hear.

\- I don't think he does. He's just trying to upset you. - the lad replied, annoyed.

\- He _does_. - Frollo insisted, walking towards the gypsy. - What do you know? - he demanded.

Clopin's smile vanished instantly, and his fists became clenched. However, he kept a calmed tone when he replied:

\- The question is not what do I know… but what does **_she_** know.

\- What are you talking about? - Frollo asked, narrowing his eyes.

\- What **_haven't you_** talked about? - Clopin replied, mockingly.

\- Enough of your games, gypsy! - Frollo snapped.- If you don't tell me what you know, I swear to God I'll…

\- You and what army? - Clopin interrupted him, displaying a cruel smile again.

Then, Frollo heard a loud thud, and turned around in time to see Quasimodo falling to the ground unconscious. Behind him, a huge man was holding a piece of wood with which he had hit Quasimodo's head.

\- What are you doing? - Frollo yelled furiously.

\- Oh, he'll be fine! - Clopin exclaimed with a gesture, as the huge man leaned down to grab Quasimodo's body and throw it over his shoulder.

\- Where are you taking him? - Frollo asked, attempting to follow the man, but Clopin took a couple graceful leaps and stood between them.

\- He will wake up outside in a couple hours. - he explained, and he tilted his head before adding. - You, on the other hand... won't ever see the sunlight again.

\- Are you threatening me? - Frollo whispered with a dangerous dark look.

\- Oh, no! - Clopin laughed. - This is not a threat. This is just information.

He clapped and two other men emerged from the darkness, each one grabbing one of Frollo's arms before he could react. The judge's insults and protests didn't make any difference as they carelessly dragged him towards the wooden platform where the gallows were.

\- Come, everyone! - Clopin announced with a singsong voice. - It's not every day we get to witness the end of the big, bad wolf! - he cried, mockingly.

The women from before walked outside their tents, holding their children's hands. They looked equally curious and scared. The few people gathered under the gallows, and soon their murmurs became snarky comments and jokes at Frollo's expense.

_So this was it,_ Frollo thought to himself. After all, this is how his story ended. Hung in the gallows in the filthy catacombs of his beloved city, by those he had sworn to eradicate. It had a certain poetic, ironic beauty to it, _didn't it?_. He wasn't afraid of death anymore, not after his previous experience with it. But he was afraid of pain. He was afraid of what the gypsies would do with his body, because he was sure they would not settle for a quick, merciful death. They were also probably going to profane his corpse after, in the worst way possible, to get revenge from everything he had done to them. And he couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, he deserved it.

But as the gypsies placed the rope around his neck, and Clopin climbed to his side, getting ready to pull the lever, only one thought remained important.

\- Please, Clopin! - he yelled, pleading.

The gypsy was surprised that he was addressing him by his name, but even more that he was doing so in such a pitiful, begging tone.

\- What? - he mocked him. - The mighty judge has any final requests?

\- Just one. - Frollo whispered hoarsely.

Clopin narrowed his eyes, but took a step away from the lever, listening.

\- Please… tell me she's safe. Just tell me she's okay. And if you don't know… please, promise you will find her and keep her safe. - Frollo begged, his voice cracking with heartbreak.

Clopin hesitated. The pain in Frollo's voice caught him off guard, but soon his cold hate rushed in again.

\- What is this, some kind of desperate attempt to soften me? - he asked, skeptically. - The verdict is clear, _Your Honor._ You of all people should know that sentences mustn't be revoked.

\- I don't care what you do to me. -Frollo affirmed, and Clopin was taken aback by the honesty in his voice. - But I can't die without knowing she will be safe. Please, at least let me die in peace.

\- Why do you care so much? - Clopin asked, getting closer so no one else would hear.

The people below protested at the delay, and they came closer trying to figure out what was going on between the jester and the judge.

\- I just do. - Frollo stated, holding his gaze in defiance, challenging him to deny the truth in his eyes.

Clopin stood still for a few seconds, pondering his options. Despite his best efforts, Esmeralda's words from that very morning came back to his mind. Could she be right? Could there be more to Frollo that what met the eye?

_No. What was he saying?_ He couldn't let the man fool him too! This was all a trick, for sure. Frollo was trying to manipulate him, and the moment he got what he wanted, he would probably arrest and execute every single one of them as a punishment for this. Things had gone too far. There was no going back now.

He turned around to grab the lever again, and the cheers from the small crowd below encouraged him.

\- Tell her I love her!- Frollo yelled, with his last dose of air.

Clopin's hands froze on the lever. The gypsies protested loudly. But the puppeteer turned around slowly, and watched Frollo with his eyes closed and his teeth gritted, completely prepared to die any second.

He wasn't strategizing. This wasn't a manipulation. As unbelievable as it seemed, Frollo was telling the truth.

He walked to the judge, furiously. Frollo opened his eyes, realizing something was off.

\- You... _what?_ \- Clopin hissed.

\- I love her. - Frollo repeated, with a strangled voice. - You do know where she is, don't you? - he asked, hopeful.

Clopin studied his face for a few seconds, and he witnessed the genuine concern in his eyes.

\- I don't- he said eventually. - But if it's true… If you love her… then you must let her go. It's best for her. You don't deserve her. - he whispered, bitterly.

\- I know. - Frollo stated, lowering his head in defeat, before realizing what Clopin's words implied.

The gypsy grabbed the rope from his neck and took it off.

\- I believe you. - Clopin said, almost inaudibly, with a frown. - And I believe that, somehow… she must love you too. - he murmured, shaking his head. - So I can't take your life. But I never want to see you, any of you, ever again. - he stated bitterly. - I don't care how many soldiers you bring with you, Frollo. If you show up here, or anywhere near my people again, I will personally kill you, even if it's the last thing I do. You understand?

At any other given moment, Frollo would have snapped at that explicit threat. But now all he could feel was relief, such a deep, overwhelming relief that he could have hugged the gypsy. So he nodded firmly, agreeing to his terms.

\- Go. Before I can reconsider. - Clopin hissed, pushing him towards the ladder.

Frollo practically jumped down to the floor and then he ran into the darkness, leaving the noise of Clopin's voice dealing with dissapointed complaints behind as fast as he could.

* * *

Carrying Quasimodo's body to his horse and placing it on him was a titanic effort, specially under the pouring rain. But Frollo had so much adrenaline rushing through his veins that he didn't even feel the pain as he held the weight and kept Quasimodo's body straight while his horse raced back to the cathedral.

The lad started to wake up when the judge was helping him descend the horse.

\- What… what happened? - he asked with a scratchy voice, before feeling the first blow of sharp soreness in his skull. He moaned in pain.

\- It's okay, we're safe now. Can you walk? - Frollo asked, concerned, still holding his weight in his arms.

\- Hmmm… - Quasimodo grunted, attempting to stand, but his knees were shaking violently.

\- Alright, don't worry. I'll help you get upstairs. - Frollo indicated, and slowly but firmly, they began the climb to the bell tower. When they finally arrived at Quasimodo's quarters, the lad was feeling strong enough to climb the ladder by himself. Frollo followed him, focused on catching him if he slipped, but he didn't. He stumbled towards his bed, where he laid on his side, holding his aching head between his hands.

\- Let me bring you some water. - Frollo said gently, rushing to get a cup and a jar.

\- Where is Esmeralda? - Quasimodo asked at last, still with his eyes closed.

\- I don't know. - Frollo confessed.- They didn't know either. But I can't ride around in this storm, and my horse needs to rest. I'm going to head back to the Palace, and tomorrow I'll search for her again.

\- I'll go with you. - Quasimodo offered.

\- No, you'll stay here. I'm so sorry for putting you at risk again. - Frollo murmured, feeling sick with guilt.

\- You didn't do anything, it was them. - Quasimodo pointed out, weakly, with another moan of pain.

\- I'll let you sleep. I'll check on you tomorrow. - Frollo said, lovingly touching his arm.

\- Good luck.- Quasimodo replied, sinking his head in the pillow.

Frollo rode all the way back to the palace stroking his horse's hair and neck, thanking him for his strength and loyalty, marveling at the sensation of touch. Having been so close to death again made him remember how miraculous every feeling of his alive body was. However, he couldn't focus on enjoying that while the relentless worry was eating him alive inside.

Pat was already sleeping, so it was one of his night guards who took his horse to the stables when he got to the back entrance. He walked across the courtyard to the inside, his footsteps making a squeaking sound because of the water dripping from his shoes. He was so cold that he feared he might get sick again. But this time he had learned his lesson, and he would remove his clothes immediately as soon as he got to his chamber, and then put on some dry ones and stay by the fire to warm himself.

But when he entered his room and walked to the armchair by the fireplace, someone else was sitting there.

\- Where were you!? Are you okay? - he asked, desperately relieved.

Esmeralda got up from the chair. Her hair was also dripping, which meant she couldn't have been there long, though she had already changed her clothes for dry ones. But her face was also soaking wet, and it took Frollo a second to realize it was because of the tears falling freely from her very swollen, reddened eyes.

He took a step closer, worried sick, but she instantly backed away. Frollo looked at her, utterly hurt and confused.

She looked back at him, and her stare looked colder and darker than it had ever been, even worse that the way she had looked at her that first day, at the dungeon. Frollo felt a shiver going down his spine, and his heart stopped.

\- _How could you?_ \- she whispered, with a strangled voice.

\- What…? - he asked, with acute despair at her obvious despise for him.

\- How could you!? - she yelled then, and her voice broke into crying when she pronounced her next words. - You killed Quasimodo's mother!


	33. Consequence

There it was.

The moment Claude Frollo had been dreading for the last twenty years.

His darkest secret, the one he had intended to take to the grave, had finally caught up with him. And it had done so through the one person in this world he would have wanted to keep it from the most.

_Of course._ It was what he deserved, after all.

He felt as if he had been frozen. He wanted to open his mouth and speak, say something, anything to make Esmeralda listen, to make her try to understand. But his lips were sealed together as if he was made of stone. He was only able to stand there, rigid, watching her.

After her outburst, she was panting heavily, trying to regain her breath and self control. At last, she looked at him again, and in a deadly calmed tone she said:

\- There are only two answers I need from you, Frollo. - the cold, impersonal way in which she called him by his last name felt like a knife through is heart. - First one. Is it true? Did you kill Quasimodo's mother? - he could hear a trace of desperate hope left in her tone, as she prayed internally that he would correct her, clear the whole thing, that it had all been a terrible misunderstanding.

But her prayer and her hope shattered into a million pieces when Frollo lowered his eyes and nodded slowly. She swallowed hard, as she felt her throat tightening dangerously. But she fought to keep her composure at least long enough to ask her second, definite question:

\- Was it an accident?

Frollo wanted to scream in pain. He knew she wouldn't take any answer longer than a "_yes_" or "_no_". Not that he had any valid explanation anyway. There were no excuses, no explanations left. Only the truth. The horrid, bare truth.

\- No. - he said, almost inaudibly.

She gasped involuntarily, as the whole meaning of that simple word hit her hard.

\- Okay. Goodbye. - she said, fighting to keep the content of her stomach inside while she rushed to the door.

\- Please, wait! - Frollo called at last, breaking free of his shock due to the even worse shock of losing her forever.

But the sound of his plea was only met with the loud noise of the door as Esmeralda slammed it.

* * *

The whole room was spinning around him. Or maybe he was the one swaying, shaking uncontrollably. Be as it may, he felt like the whole world was unraveling, and he feared that any second now, the floor would disappear from beneath his feet and he would sunk into a deep abyss of darkness.

He did the only thing he had left. He fell to his knees before the big cross over the fireplace, and raised his eyes in a desperate call for help. But as he did so, a dark, cruel realization came over him.

This had been the plan, from the beginning. The vileness of his actions had set in motion the most complex, intricate punishment of them all, specially designed to make him suffer the way he deserved to suffer. It had all led to this moment; meeting Esmeralda, falling in love with her, redeeming himself and gaining her love in return, believing that he was worth it… it was a master plan. For now that she had found out about his secret and left him for good, he had nothing left. He had surrendered everything he was to be with her, and now it all had been taken away from him, like he had taken everything away from that innocent gypsy girl and her baby twenty years ago.

It was fair. It was Justice.

So how could he ask for help of any kind, knowing that?

If he prided himself in something, it was his ability to discern beyond his emotions. What other people called ruthless, he called objective. He was just. He had never punished anyone who didn't deserved it, nor spare someone who did.

His own core principle had turned against him now. He knew he didn't deserve forgiveness.

This was the end of his story. And his sentence would be to remain in this world knowing that, utterly alone. Because he was sure that Esmeralda would have told Quasimodo by now, and he knew that would be the end of his relationship with his adoptive son.

Twenty years ago, Notre Dame had witnessed his crime and orchestrated the perfect consequence for him, the one that would make up for all the pain he had caused.

And today, all he had left to do was bow in admiration for the impeccable, breathtakingly flawless way in which she had succeeded.

* * *

Esmeralda raced down the stairs and through the entrance door into the open air, where not even the cold refreshing rain could stop her from throwing up violently. The anguish was hitting her in waves, each stronger than the one before.

She didn't know where to go or what to do but she knew she couldn't stay still, or anywhere near Frollo for that matter.

She briefly considered going to the cathedral, but her stomach twisted again with the thought of facing Quasimodo. She knew she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye ever again after knowing the truth about his origins. The lad was so kind and honest, it made her sick to think about Frollo blatantly lying to his face for his entire life. She wouldn't last a minute.

So, with a sharp pain in her heart, she understood that visiting Quasimodo was no longer an option. She had just lost the truest friend she had ever met. And in turn, Quasimodo would lost probably the only person that had truly cared for him at all. All because of Frollo. The burning rage she felt made her dizzy again.

"_Okay, just move, where do I go?_" she thought to herself. She thought of the catacombs, but for some reason, the fact that Clopin had been right all this time made it unbearable to face him again. She scolded herself for her pride, but looking deep down within herself, she knew pride wasn't the only reason. There was also guilt. Guilt and shame for everything she had put him through, for turning her back against him and hurting him so.

But even those weren't the only reasons.

There was something more, something that she realized horrified; she wasn't ready to admit that Frollo was a monster, because there was still a hidden part of herself that believed he wasn't.


	34. Memories

\- Is he gone? - Esmeralda whispered, with her back still pressed against the wooden wall.

\- Yes, miss. - Pat reassured her.

She came out of her hiding spot, just in time to see the judge's back as he walked away through the courtyard.

However, she didn't see Frollo's face as it bursted with relief. He had come down to the stables after the servants had informed him that Esmeralda hadn't spent the night at her chambers and hadn't been seen anywhere in the Palace. He intended to take his horse and search the whole city until he found her. He didn't have anything else to say about their discussion last night, but he was worried about Clopin's threat. Though he was pretty sure that the gypsy wouldn't hurt her, Clopin had sounded very confident when he stated that he didn't want to see any of them around anymore, so Frollo figured it was best to give her a warning. He didn't trust the gypsy's methods of impulsive justice.

However, when he got to the stables, he found Pat awfully restless, and his nervous smile when they spoke didn't conceal the fact that his face was brightly red. Frollo was about to ask him what was going on, when something clicked in his brain. He was a clever man, and he understood almost immediately that Esmeralda must have gone to him in search for shelter, for she probably knew better than to approach the Court of Miracles without a warning. Besides, he knew it wouldn't be the first night the gypsy had spent at the stables.

When he realized she ought to be there, hiding somewhere, his heart felt a tiny bit lighter. At least now he knew she was safe. He knew this wouldn't be a permanent solution, but he wished she would choose to stay there at least long enough so he could approach her and warn her about Clopin. But he was pretty sure that she would run away immediately if he tried to do so now, so he pretended not to notice Pat's evident nervousness, and just instructed the lad to have his horse ready after breakfast, for he was taking him for a whole day out in the city. He made sure to announce his plans loud enough so Esmeralda could hear and hopefully, she would choose to remain there for the day, knowing that he wouldn't be around.

\- Do you think he suspected anything? - Esmeralda anxiously asked the stable boy.

\- I don't think so, miss. He just asked me to…

\- I know, I heard. - she interrupted him with a weak smile.

\- That means you can stay here today, miss.

\- I don't know… - she hesitated.

But she truly had nowhere else to go. As long as Frollo didn't know she was there, it was the safest place she could think of.

\- Well, if I'm going to stay, you should put me to work. The least I can do is help you.

\- Oh, miss, you don't have to! - Pat quickly reassured her.

\- I want to. It will help me stay distracted from… - her voice faded as she failed to pronounce the next words.

\- Do you want to talk about it? - Pat offered, though he was pretty sure of what her answer would be.

\- No. - Esmeralda shook her head, attempting another smile. - Let's not think about that now. Tell me what I can do!

* * *

The truth was, Frollo had actually nothing to do. It was a Saturday and he had no judge duties. But he had said that he would be spending the day out, and he had even made his servants prepare him some food to carry, so he had no choice but to leave until sunset.

He rode his horse outside the city, along the river. He entered the forest, which was all humid from the previous night's rain. He would have noticed the wet earth scent, or the medicinal smell from the herbs by the riverside. He would have noticed how the timid sun was making the tiny drops hanging from the leaves shine. He would have noticed the hopeful and grateful bird songs after the storm. But he was completely unable to notice any of this, because all he could think of was that dreadful night.

He had been riding that same horse, though back then it was barely a young stud, thinner and faster. It was a cold winter night, and the snow was falling heavily, covering the streets and buildings. He was patrolling the river banks with a bunch of his soldiers, for he had been warned by an informant that a group of gypsies were planning on entering the city illegaly that very night.

The soldiers were waiting by the docks, while he was standing out of sight, vigilant. Around midnight, the sound of hushed voices and a rowing in the water alerted them of the gypsies arrival.

Soon, his soldiers had surrounded the three criminals, two men and a woman. But when he had ordered that they took them to the palace of justice, the woman had tried to resist, holding onto a bundle that she was pressing against her chest.

In that moment, the memory of another night, buried long ago, emerged in Frollo's mind. He almost felt the sharp pain of his nose as it bled broken, while the old gypsy woman held onto the bag that contained all he had left, and tossed him a flask of urine to cure his parents plague.

He was then sure that the package the gypsy girl was carrying ought to be something they had stolen, and he ordered his soldiers to take it from her at once.

But she ran.

So he spurred his horse and raced after her forgetting all about the rest. A blinding rage was taking over his entire being, and suddenly trapping the thief became a personal matter, as if he was chasing the ones that had assaulted him when he was just a child, only now he was finally in the powerful position. It was time for justice.

The gypsy stalled him by running into an alley, but then she raced towards the open space at the cathedral's feet. _It was his chance_.

He reached down to grab the bundle, but the woman held onto it with all her strength. But he was no longer a defenseless child. Now, he was stronger. He kicked her away with her foot, and she slipped in the ice over the steps and fell head first to the ground.

Frollo heard the crack of her neck as it snapped broken, killing her instantly. But he didn't even had the time to process it, for all his attention was set on finding out what he had managed to retrieve from the thief's hands. He knew rationally that it could be anything, but in his altered state, somehow he expected to see the stolen bag containing his gold coins and the couple family heirlooms that his younger self had thrown into it, to make sure it was worth enough to pay for the gypsy's cure.

But, to his dread, his bag wasn't there. In fact, no stolen goods were.

It was a _baby._

He heard the cry and for a second, his heart stopped. But before he could begin to understand what was going on, he uncovered the baby's face to find a misshapen creature inside, twisting and screaming. That was no baby! It was a monster! He had never believed in witches tales of evil spirits and so on, but on that horrible, haunted night everything seemed suddenly possible.

He looked around, searching for an answer to his terror, and then he saw the well. Whatever that demon was, it was probably susceptible to drowning. So he pointed his horse to the well, but a yell stopped him once again.

The archdeacon of Notre Dame had witnessed the whole scene, and was demanding an explanation. Frollo tried to explain what had happened, that the gypsy had run away from the soldiers so he had been forced to chase her. That he was carrying an unholy demon and intended to send it back to hell.

But the archdeacon's accusing tone made him slowly fall back into reality, releasing him from the vengeance and fear spell he had cast upon himself.

Only then, looking down on the dead woman and the screaming baby he was still holding, he realized what he had done.

A layer of cold sweat covered his face as he looked up at the thousand stone eyes that stared at him from Notre Dame's walls.

\- What must I do? - he asked the archdeacon, swallowing hard, terrified of the magnitude of his acts and its consequences.

The priest instructed him to adopt the baby as if he was his own. Frollo had never in a million years envisioned himself as a father, but he understood that it was the right thing to do. And he trusted that God's ways, however ineffable they were, would work out eventually for his own good.

So that's what he did. He adopted Quasimodo, though very reluctantly at first.

He also took confession with the archdeacon, though he did it for the sole purpose of forcing his silence, since the priest was obliged to maintain the confession's confidentiality.

He knew that priests could make an exception if a crime had been committed, but in this case, he was also the main justice authority in Paris, so the archdeacon had no one else to report his crime to.

A few years went by, and Frollo rarely thought of that night again. He was very busy, taking care of the city and securing his position, earning the king's favor. Though now and then something would remind him of that event, he would discard the thought quickly, convinced that he had done the only thing he could do, what was expected from him as an officer of the law, chasing after a criminal.

However, when baby Quasimodo turned into a young child, Frollo found himself developing certain affection for him. It was mainly based on pity, since his deformity was so obvious that Frollo knew he would never be able to have a normal life. Frollo had tried once to take him to school, with disastrous consequences. So the judge decided that he would educate Quasimodo himself, and make sure he had everything he needed brought to him, so he wouldn't have to leave the tower. The boy asked no questions about his secluded life in the cathedral, for he didn't knew any other way to exist in the world. Frollo's desire to protect the boy reconnected him with the urge he had had to keep his little brother safe when they were children, and he found himself remembering a part of him he had repressed long ago. The caring, protective side of his heart.

He realized this was a chance to finally have someone to whom he could teach his vision of the world, someone that would listen to what he had to say. And somehow this made him feel less lonely, for even if Quasimodo was just a child, it no longer felt like he was completely alone against the world.

It was around that time that Quasimodo asked about his parents for the first time. He had heard people talking in the cathedral about the mother of God, so one day he asked Frollo what a mother was. Frollo tried to give him a simple, brief explanation, suitable to his age, but the boy's mind was overflowing with questions.

He was way too young by then to even consider telling him the truth, so Frollo lied without second thought. He told him he had found him abandoned at Notre Dame's steps one winter night, and chosen to adopt him. He said he didn't knew who his parents were. And of course, the boy believed him.

Frollo didn't give it much thought back then. Lying to him was the right thing to do, the same way that chasing after his mother had been the right thing to do. It was an unfortunate circumstance that the right thing to do wasn't always easy or comfortable, but nothing more.

However, by the time Quasimodo was a teenager, something else changed in Frollo's life. One day, returning home from a journey, he stopped to get some water at a local farm, and he found a widower and his son, whom the man was mistreating badly. Frollo decided to take the boy back home with him, and he became his guardian. Once again, without planning it in advance, he found himself developing affection for a child, and feeling protective of him. Patrice's sweet and cheerful temper easily made its way to Frollo's heart, softening it even if just a little.

Maybe it was that crack in his inner walls, or maybe it was just time finally catching up to him, but Frollo started having nightmares about the night Quasimodo's mother had died. The scene kept replaying in his mind at night, and he began to feel restless during the day as well, struggling to distract himself from those dark thoughts.

One evening, sixteen-year-old Quasimodo asked him again about his parents. He knew he had been abandoned at birth, but he wanted to know every detail Frollo could remember.

This time, the judge did consider telling the truth for a second. But it was too late for that. He had grown to care too much about Quasimodo, and wasn't willing to hurt him so. Telling him would only break the boy's heart, and it wouldn't change the past. So he made up a detailed story about how he had found a bundle in the snow, containing a crying baby, and he assured him again that he didn't know who his parents were. He just told him they were gypsies, which was also convenient to help him explain his own distrust for their kind.

Once again, Quasimodo accepted this story and believed Frollo's words. He never brought it up again.

But the lying and the guilt were eating away at the judge. Something had changed within him during the years, and he no longer believed that his actions had been justified. Granted, he had thought he was chasing a criminal. But she turned out to be just a terrified mother, and that was the life he had severed. He couldn't forgive himself, but he couldn't do anything to fix it either. So he went to the only person he could spoke about it.

The archdeacon comforted him, secretly glad that he was finally showing signs of true remorse. Frollo asked for a confession again, and this time he let his whole guard down and revealed his true anguish to the priest, sheltered by the obligation of confidentiality. The archdeacon absolved him again, and told him that God had cleaned his slate. This soothed Frollo's tormented heart, and the judge chose to rewrite his own narrative. He told himself the same story he had told Quasimodo, and he did it with such conviction that he ended up believing it. The boy had been abandoned and he had adopted him. He was a good man. From that day on, every time he spoke about that story, either with Quasimodo or with himself in his inner dialogue, that was the version he recalled.

_What a fool he had been,_ actually believing that he was forgiven, that it was as simple as convincing himself of a fake story.

It was crystal clear to him now that he had never been given a clean slate. The weight of his sin had just been patiently waiting the right moment to drop on him and crush him for good. Just when he had finally allowed himself to open his heart and soul to another human being.

_And what now?_ There was nothing left to say or do.

He made a choice.

He would wait a few days for the opportunity to face Esmeralda again, and then, if she was merciful enough to allow him the chance, he would warn her about Clopin's threat so she would be careful not to show up at the Court of Miracles.

He would also write Quasimodo a letter explaining the whole situation and apologizing as well.

And then, he would kill himself.

If there was an eternity of doom awaiting him, there was no point in delaying it anymore.


	35. Inner war

A couple days went by, but Frollo still couldn't gather the courage to try to speak to Esmeralda. He knew she was still staying at the stables, with Pat. He had made sure of that by paying the boy short visits with poor excuses, and checking that Pat's nervousness when he saw him appear remained the same. He had also ordered his servants to increase Patrice's share of food, for he suspected that the boy was sharing it with her so she didn't have to set foot in the palace and risk being seen.

The boy was indeed sharing his meals with the gypsy, who kept insisting that he should take them, assuring him that she had gone days without eating before and it was no big deal. But Pat wasn't willing to yield, so she would take a few bites now and then. The boy was very worried about her. Esmeralda's usual happy disposition had turned into a gloom mood, and she spent most of the day laying down in the hay, in a fetal position, with an absent look in her eyes. Whenever Pat addressed her, she made an effort to smile, but it was just a sad shadow of her real smile. At night, he could hear her crying herself to sleep.

Only she didn't sleep. Any time she closed her eyes, horrible images of cruelty and murder filled her mind, making her heart jump in her chest. She was exhausted. But it wasn't the lack of sleep what caused her exhaustion. It was her inner battle. She was in a constant fight with herself, trying to straighten her heart into the realization that Frollo was a monster. But her heart kept fighting back, begging her to consider his side of this story, whatever it was. There was no consideration possible, she thought. Nothing could make the cold murdering of an innocent right. And the lying… She had bared her soul and body to this man. She had revealed the parts of herself she was most embarrassed about. And the whole time, he had been hiding a lie. There was no way she could even trust him again. So _why the hell couldn't she just leave_, leave him and everything behind, and start a new life far away from this whole heartbreaking story?

She was sick of tossing and turning in the hay. She got up quietly so she wouldn't wake Pat, and walked outside into the courtyard. There was no moon that night, and she could see the stars in the few clear spaces between the clouds. Looking up to the sky from there, she remembered that orange and purple sunset she had watched, the night of the big storm, before she had heard the harpsichord music and followed it to the library.

Even though she tried to fight it, the memory of that night, of Frollo playing that hauntingly beautiful melody with such delicacy and sorrow, came back flooding her eyes with tears. Once again, she asked herself how could he be the same man that had committed such terrible crimes. Maybe it had all been a trick she had played on herself, some kind of self-suggestion in which she saw what she wanted to see because of her feelings towards the judge. That seemed more believable. But she suddenly felt the urge to know for sure, so she decided to enter the palace and go upstairs. Maybe being in the same room again would help her remember with clarity.

The palace was deadly quiet, since it was the middle of the night, and even the last of the servants were asleep.

She snuck up to the library, silent as a mouse. Luckily, the door wasn't locked, so she was able to enter easily.

The whole room was dark. The fireplace wasn't lit, and though there were tall windows, the absence of moonlight made them look almost like a continuation of the wall. It took her a long time to get her eyes used to the darkness enough to not bump into any furniture and wake everyone up if she dared to move.

She walked to the instrument at the far end of the room. Though it was irrational, she felt as if the harpsichord was a living being, soundly asleep. She softly caressed the keys with her fingertips, and sat in the bench. Maybe it was the darkness, the silence, or her lack of rest, but she started feeling Frollo's presence as well. She closed her eyes, frustrated. This hadn't been a good idea. If she was trying to regain clarity, she was achieving just the opposite thing.

Feeling his presence there, surrounded by his things, was only making her feel weaker and more confused. The part of her that missed Frollo was growing stronger in his territory. If she wanted to be able to leave him behind, she needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

She got up from the bench and turned around towards the door. Because of the darkness, it took her a few seconds to realize there was a tall figure standing beside it.

\- God! - she gasped, clasping her shirt.

\- It's me. - Frollo's baritone voice whispered in the silence.

Esmeralda felt the adrenaline running through her veins as she fought hard to find a valid reason that justified her presence in the palace, in the middle of the night. But no words came to her empty, shocked mind.

\- It's okay. - Frollo spoke again. He was resisting the impulse to move towards her. He didn't want to do anything that wound send her running again. So he stood there in the dark, barely able to discern her features in her curvy silhouette against the slight clarity of the window. However, he could perfectly hear her accelerated breathing, and he knew she was either furious or terrified. - I know you've been staying with Pat. It's alright. - he said, trying to reassure her.

Esmeralda was surprised, though she had suspected something when she noticed Patrice's food increasing in quantity. But she had discarded the thought, for she had been very careful not to be seen or leave any trace of her presence at the stables. But Frollo was smart, and he had probably found something that gave her away.

\- I'm sorry. I'll leave now.- she mumbled, though she stood on her spot, for coming close to the door meant coming closer to him.

\- You don't have to… - Frollo replied, and she could hear the hidden plea behind his tone. - I once told you that as long as I lived, you would have a safe home here. That still stands… whatever happens between us.

Her heart shrunk in her chest when she heard those words. But then she remembered the context in which he had pronounced them. Having her naked and afraid in front of him, completely exposed, while he was keeping secrets. And her anger came flooding back.

\- I don't think I can feel safe here anymore.- she replied bitterly. She heard Frollo's soft gasp of pain.

_You are safe_, he wanted to say. _I would never, ever hurt you._

But he knew those words would mean nothing coming from him now. So instead, he seized the opportunity to warn her.

\- The Court of Miracles isn't safe for you anymore either. - he stated.

\- What makes you think that? - she asked, skeptically, considering his warning an excuse for him to keep her under his watch.

\- I was there the other day with Quasimodo. - Frollo began to explain.

\- What? - she asked, baffled, suddenly forgetting about her anger and unconsciously taking a step forward. - When? Why?

\- When you didn't show up to the cathedral… we got worried. - Frollo revealed, slightly embarrassed.- We didn't know if you were okay, or where to find you… so Quasimodo suggested we went there and ask around.

\- What happened? - Esmeralda inquired anxiously.

\- They weren't happy to see us. - Frollo said grimly. - They… knocked Quasimodo unconscious.

\- What!? - she yelled, and the sound of her angry voice reverberated through the silent room.

\- He's alright. - Frollo quickly reassured her. - Sore, but safe.

\- And you? - she asked, and though she tried to sound cold and calmed, the underlying concern in her tone was palpable.

Frollo hesitated. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to tell her the truth. It may look like he was trying to turn her against her people. But he figured that lying was precisely what had brought him to this situation in the first place, and he had nothing left to lose. If she didn't believe him, that was her problem.

\- They sentenced me to hang to death. - he stated plainly.

He saw Esmeralda's body immediately leaning forward, willing to come closer, her hands raising towards him in an unconscious attempt to comfort him. But it lasted only a fraction of a second. She instantly held herself back, containing her impulse, though her voice was trembling when she asked:

\- What happened?

\- I… convinced them to let me go. - Frollo murmured, glad that the darkness was concealing his reddening cheeks.

\- No, _you didn't_.- Esmeralda blurted out without thinking. She knew there was not a single chance that Clopin had had Frollo at his disposition and had been convinced to give that up.

Frollo didn't answer that. Esmeralda narrowed her eyes, trying to discern his facial expression, but the darkness was just too thick.

\- What _truly_ happened? - she insisted.

\- Alright. - Frollo yielded with a sigh of surrender. He felt that revealing this would place him in an even worse position, more vulnerable and exposed to her wounding despise. But again, he had nothing left to lose. - When he was about to pull the lever, I… I begged him to tell you… how much I loved you.

Esmeralda's fists clenched, and she gritted her teeth, fighting to keep that information from reaching her heart. It couldn't be. She couldn't believe that. If she did, she would be lost.

\- And then? - she asked, trying to focus on the story.

\- He believed me. - Frollo explained. - I don't know why, but he did. And he chose to let me go.

\- Just like that? - Esmeralda asked, in disbelief.

\- Yes. - Frollo confirmed. - However he warned me… that if he ever saw any of us around them again, he wouldn't be so forgiving.

\- That sounds more like him. - Esmeralda murmured darkly.

Once again, they both stood in silence, feeling the weight of their words.

\- You don't have to talk to me – Frollo said, all of a sudden.

\- What? - she asked, puzzled.

\- If you stay here. You don't have to even see me. I can eat in my chambers, and I can let you know when I will be out so you can roam freely. But I meant what I said. This is your home too.

\- No. - she replied quietly. - I can't. But… - she paused for a moment. - I will stay at the stables with Pat if that's okay. Just until I decide what I'm going to do next.

\- Of course. - Frollo agreed immediately, visibly relieved.

She inhaled deeply, and began walking towards the door. He took a step back, to leave her space to come through. But when she reached his side, she suddenly stopped.

Frollo held his breath, afraid of what her next move would be.

She looked up at him, and with her proximity, he finally was able to discern her eyes. They were so filled with pain and torment that he instantly hated himself for putting her through that.

\- They shouldn't have done that. - she murmured, with a strangled voice.- I'm sorry.

It took Frollo an instant to understand she was referring to the gypsies trying to execute him.

The judge nodded slowly. She gave him a single nod, and walked out the door.

* * *

When the timid light of dawn illuminated the horizon, Esmeralda woke up. She was startled at first to find herself laying in hay, but quickly remembered what had happened. After last night's encounter with Frollo she had finally been able to relax enough to sleep. It wasn't because she was feeling any better, which she wasn't. But at least now she wasn't concerned about accidentally running into him and his reaction when he learned she was staying there secretly. This gave her a little more time and clarity to consider what her next move should be.

But the stables were starting to feel a bit like a prison as well. She needed fresh air, and she thought that maybe a change of scenery would allow her a change of perspective as well. So she let Pat know that she was leaving for the day and would be back at sunset. She called Djali, who was happily eating in his box, and together they climbed through the crack in the back wall into the outside world.

A few steps further she began to feel already lighter. But she wasn't ready to face anyone, and she was terrified of running into Clopin or any of the gypsies in the streets. She didn't really believed Clopin's threat, but she wasn't eager to confirm he was bluffing anyway.

So she decided to head towards the edge of the city, where the river entered the forest. She thought that nature's calm would help soothe her mind. But once she got there, the silence and absence of distractions only made it harder to ignore that little voice protesting inside her heart.

She sat under a tree, laying her back on its trunk with Djali's head on her lap, and with a sigh of frustration, she spoke to herself out loud:

\- Alright. Let's state the facts. Frollo killed Quasimodo's mother, in cold blood, according to the archdeacon.

She recalled how hard it had been to convince the priest to reveal Frollo's secret. However, she was way smarter than him and had found the way to manipulate the information out of his hesitant mind. Since then, she had regretted doing so countless times. But she knew she shouldn't regret it. She needed to know the truth.

\- And then he lied about it every day for the past twenty years. - she continued, very matter-of-factly. - So that's it. There's really not so much to consider, is it?

Djali bleated weakly, as in response to her question, which made Esmeralda smile.

\- I agree. There is no excuse. He's a murderer, and a liar.

_And you love him_, the little inner voice added.

She wanted to deny this affirmation, but she couldn't. Sitting there in complete solitude, where no one except herself could hear or judge her, she allowed herself to admit the truth. Yes, she loved him still.

It was completely irrational. This wasn't some kind of gray, complicated moral area. Murder was murder. There was no other way to look at it, but somehow, for her heart, that didn't change the other, equally true reality of her love.

Once again, she found herself considering what that said about her. _What kind of person would stay in love after something like that?_

Esmeralda yelled with exasperation, leaning her head against the tree's bark and looking up at its canopy. The branches hanged low, with lots of green, elongated leaves also hanging down, swaying softly in the breeze. She allowed her gaze to sway with them, slowly back and forth. But then, something caught her eye, bringing her attention back. She stood up, startling the goat who bleated in protest.

She looked closer at the trunk, observing the strange marks on it. It looked as if someone had ripped out the bark with a knife, leaving tender wounds in the wood. It was definitely human made.

\- Who would want to rip…? - she began asking herself out loud, and then it hit her.

She frowned, skeptical. _What were the odds?_

But she instinctively leaned forward to smell the bark where it had been cut. And the discreet but distinct scent that filled her nose confirmed her suspicions. She recognized it as the same one that that from the tea she had been drinking when she was injured. Apparently, the universe was trying to mock her, or send her some kind of sign.

She took a step backwards and raised her eyes to contemplate the tree again. So this was a willow, the medicinal tree that had helped her heal. In fact, it wasn't just any willow. The marks on the trunk revealed that bark had been taken from this particular tree not long ago, so it was probably the exact one that Frollo had chosen to cut for her.

Before she could raise a defending wall against it, the memories from that event came rushing in. That had been the night were he went outside during a snow blizzard to get her that bark, exposing himself to such cold and exhaustion that it nearly killed him.

And, for what she had learned last night, it hadn't been the only time he had risked his life for her.

She had no proof that what Frollo had told her was true, but somehow she knew it was. It wasn't hard to believe anyway, that Clopin would have tried to kill him if he had been stupid enough to actually visit the Court of Miracles unprotected and unarmed.

What she found almost impossible to believe was that the gypsy had let the judge escape from his fatal fate.

The weird thing wasn't that Frollo had claimed to love her. Despite everything, she knew that the judge was convinced that he did, even if now she wasn't sure he knew how to love at all.

No. The weird, inexplicable part was… that Clopin had_ believed_ him. Clopin, the same man who hated Frollo's guts passionately, the one that hadn't even given her the chance to explain herself, to defend him… The man who had warned her about Frollo's darkest truth in a desperate final attempt of getting her to abandon him.

_That man_ had decided that the judge was worth saving.

And that could only mean, he had seen something real in him. Something that, at the very least, began to make up for his crimes.

If Clopin himself had been able to see it… then maybe she wasn't crazy. Maybe, somehow, she had been right about Frollo all along.

She still didn't understand how that was possible, knowing what she knew now, but at least this gave her a glimpse of hope, that maybe she could find a way to end the war between the two parts of herself. She hurried Djali along, retracing her path back towards the palace. It was a long way back, but she was walking fast with determination. She needed to talk to him.

* * *

The silence of her absence was roaring in his ears as he stared at her empty spot in the dining table.

Frollo had eaten alone for the best part of his life, but suddenly, watching that empty chair was unbearable.

At least, he wouldn't have to endure it much longer.

After running into Esmeralda last night, when he had gone up to the library unable to sleep, he had fulfilled his mission of warning her. Now he knew she would be safe. At least, as safe as he could try to keep her. He had also made sure to confirm her that she was welcomed there, no matter what happened to him. He hoped that she would remember his words, and understand their meaning.

So that morning, after attending Sunday's mass, he had gone back to his chambers and written his final letter to Quasimodo, revealing the truth and asking for his forgiveness.

And now here he was, tasting carefully this warm, delicious meal the cooks had prepared for him, and him alone. The servants had been extremely surprised when he kindly thank them for all their hard work, and complimented their cooking skills.

But it was the least he could do, now that he no longer had to worry about maintaining their fear or respect towards him.

His only wish now was that he would get to see his mother once again, before being dragged away to hell. Perhaps she could be the one person to still love him, after everything he had done and was about to do.

He got up from the table, and headed towards the dungeon's door. He had decided to do it there, for only his guards were allowed to enter. He didn't want any maid finding his body on his chambers. It would be too traumatic for her, and too undignified for him.

At the main hall, he ran into Magdalene, who was carrying a basket with Patrice's food, towards the courtyard. Pat didn't know how to read, so he couldn't write him a letter. And he wasn't willing to say goodbye in person. Hopefully the boy would find its way with whoever came next to fill his vacant position.

He also briefly thought of his horse. He truly cared for the animal, and for a moment he considered going to the stables for a last friendly reunion with him. But that would take him too long. Now he had made up his mind, he needed to get it over with as soon as possible.

So, with a final sigh, he turned his back on the backyard and began descending the dungeon's stairs.


	36. The Search

Esmeralda arrived at the palace short of breath. But when Djali and her climbed the crack on the wall to enter through the stable's backyard, suddenly the rush and determination she was feeling vanished.

She was so focused on coming back to talk to Frollo, that she hadn't thought of what she was going to say to him. She now felt hesitant and reluctant again. _Well_, she thought to herself, _I have all the time in the world, there is no rush. He took twenty years to admit the truth so I can take a few days to react to it, right?_

So she entered the stables looking for Pat, hoping that would distract her and maybe fill her with good energy so she would feel stronger again. The stable's corridor was empty, but there were weird noises coming out from one of the furthest boxes.

\- Pat? - she called timidly.

But there was no response. Intrigued, she walked down the corridor, towards the noise. A horse was neighing loudly, blowing and hitting the ground with its hooves.

As she came closer, she began hearing the boy's voice as well, uselessly trying to soothe the animal.

\- Hey! It's okay! It's okay! - the lad kept saying, but his tone was anxious.

\- Pat, where are you? - she called louder, so he could hear her over the noise.

\- Over here!- his voice answered.

Esmeralda realized it came from Snowball's box. She walked to it and found the horse standing on his back legs, neighing vehemently.

If the animal was big when he stood on his four legs, now he looked monstrously huge. Pat looked so fragile beneath it, even with his arms raised high trying to grab the horse's muzzle. She feared for his integrity; if the horse decided to come down over him, his massive body would crush Pat's like a stick.

\- Careful! - she yelled, terrified to come any closer.

The horse came down inches away from Pat, and his weight hitting the ground made the floor under her feet vibrate. It was scary as hell but for some reason, Esmeralda also felt mesmerized by such display of wild power.

\- Are you okay? - she asked Pat, worried.

\- Yes, miss! - the lad replied, sweating and panting heavily as he tried to touch Snowball's black neck.- There you go, it's okay!

But the horse moved away immediately, blowing and shaking his head.

\- What's wrong? - Esmeralda asked baffled.

\- I don't know! - Pat confessed, frustrated. - I heard him hitting the door from the inside, as if he was trying to escape. He's never done this before!

\- Maybe he's sick? - she pondered.

\- I don't think so. He was perfectly fine this morning!

The horse suddenly lunged the door again, where Esmeralda was standing.

\- Watch out! - Pat cried alarmed, unsuccessfully trying to grab the reins.

Esmeralda jumped to her side to dodge the huge animal, but to her surprise, the horse stopped at the door and turned his head right at her. She was then able to look closer at Snowball's eyes and she saw the panic in them. The animal stared at her deeply, suddenly still. She felt as if he was trying to get her attention, to communicate with her somehow. The horse lowered his head and neighed with a sharp, anxious sound.

\- Thank God he didn't get you! - Pat exclaimed, seizing the opportunity to finally grab the reins. - Master Frollo would kill me if he did!

When she heard those words, a strong chill went down her spine. They weren't just a figure of speech anymore. Now, they conjured real, horrible images in her head. But before she could be dragged back to those dark thoughts, something else caught her attention.

She hadn't been the only one to react to Frollo's name.

When Pat had pronounced it, the horse had suddenly turned his head to the lad, and was now hitting his shoulder with his muzzle repeatedly.

\- What are you doing? - the boy asked, somehow amused by that unexpected behavior.

But Esmeralda felt as if she was getting closer to something, like her intuition was screaming inside of her gut to get her to understand.

\- Is it Frollo? - she asked, out of the blue.

Again, the horse reacted when he heard his master's name. He began shaking his head back and forth, and hitting the floor with his front hoof.

Pat looked at her, confused. But the increasing feeling in her gut was becoming dangerously real.

\- Something's wrong. - she muttered. - Something's really wrong.

\- With the horse? - Pat asked, trying to follow.

\- No. With Frollo. I have to go. - she said, and before the lad could add anything else, she ran towards the palace.

She wouldn't have normally given this much importance to a horse behavior, even if she knew from her own relationship with Djali, how intuitive and caring those animals could be. But the thing was, every bone in her body was also screaming that something bad was going on.

When she entered the palace's hall, the darkness inside compared to the sunlight left her momentarily blind, long enough to crash into someone. She heard the other person scream in protest, and she took a step back, trying to maintain her balance. Finally, her pupils adapted to the dim light.

\- Magdalene! - she recognized the housekeeper. - Have you seen Frollo?

\- Good afternoon, miss. - the woman replied, visibly irritated at her lack of manners and wild attitude. - Excuse me, I didn't see you coming in. - she added, with a hidden sarcasm in her tone.

\- Frollo? - Esmeralda asked again impatiently. She didn't have time for polite talk. The adrenaline was rushing through her veins, and though she had no clue why, she knew she was right to worry.

The housekeeper frowned, deeply offended by her treat. She took a few seconds to answer, aware of the gypsy's impatience.

\- I believe I saw the Minister earlier, miss.

\- Where? - Esmeralda asked, almost yelling.

Her demanding tone made Magdalene's eyebrows lift with disbelief. She had never been disrespected like that, let alone by a mere gypsy. She made a huge effort to conceal the fury in her tone when she replied:

\- He was headed towards the dungeons, I believe.

\- Thank you! - Esmeralda nodded, already heading there.

\- Wait, miss! - Magdalene called, taking great pleasure from Esmeralda's anxious look when she turned her head towards her. - Only soldiers are allowed to enter the dungeons. None of the servants have permission to go past that spot. - she indicated, pointing towards the heavy wooden door.

\- I'm not a servant. - Esmeralda replied, turning around again.

\- No guests either! - Magdalene yelled, in a desperate attempt to stall her, just to spite her.

\- Well, I'm no guess! - Esmeralda answered, this time without turning back. - This is my home now! - she stated, and without second thought, she opened the door and raced down the stairs.

* * *

Being there again brought back the memories from when they had all been incarcerated. The humid cold, the unpleasant smell, the dim light from the torches… It resembled the atmosphere from the catacombs, but was somehow different as well. The catacombs were filled with skeletons, dead bodies… there, you could feel the subtle presence of death and decay, an iced stillness that wrapped you with reverent fear and made you long to find something alive and warm to cast away its spell.

But in the palace's dungeons the feeling was completely different. There was no death. Instead, there was life, anxious life force, desperate to escape the horror, the torture, the impending execution. It felt as if the stone walls had somehow been impregnated with that pain and suffering, that terror that the many prisoners they had seen must have felt.

She remembered her own night there, pacing back and forth anxiously, consumed with guilt and sorrow. She recalled her first true interaction with Frollo, when he had offered her the exchange, acting so cruel and ruthless before her defiant, furious self. It felt like she was a different person back then, and above all, like he was a different person himself. But they weren't. He was somehow the same man that later, she had found beautiful, and caring, and attractive. The man she had fallen in love with. And also… the man who had been keeping a horrible secret. All those facts were true. She remembered the first time she had looked into Frollo's eyes, at the festival. She had felt like she was looking into the depths of an ocean, an intricate, complicated soul. _Complicated indeed_, she thought with a bitter smile, shaking her head.

But her complicated man was nowhere to be found. She looked inside every cell, holding the torch up so it would illuminate every dark corner. She tried not to focus on the chains in the walls, and all the other diverse torture devices that she found deep within those tunnels. She tried calling his name a couple times, but only the echo of her voice replied, in a spooky, ghostly way.

The anxiety grew heavier in her chest, as she began to hear her own heartbeats pounding her eardrums. She tried to calm herself, thinking that maybe it was just the atmosphere around her, but she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

Suddenly, she heard a faint noise. She stood still, trying to identify its origin. She fought to control her own breathing, so she could hear better. But she heard nothing else. She was about to conclude it had been a rat, and give up on her search of the dungeons, when she heard another noise, this time distinctively human, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

It came from the end of the corridor, so she ran, checking every cell on the way, but they were all empty. Finally she reached a different door. It was also made of metal but looked much more elegant and less prison-like.

She pushed the door open, which took a surprising amount of strength, for it was thicker and heavier than she had expected. She was also surprised by finding it unlocked, but that could only mean there was someone inside.

The room she stepped in looked nothing like the other cells.

For starters, she felt an immediate warmth the moment she entered through the door. There was a fire lit, over which a small black cauldron was brewing some dark liquid. The walls were filled with wood shelves at different heights, all of them displaying books and glass jars of various sizes. Some of the jars were empty, but most of them were filled with unrecognizable substances. There were also dried plants and herbs hanging from the ceiling.

In the middle of the room, she saw an immense table covered in open books, scribbled parchments, metal instruments and tools, and some objects she was unable to identify.

The richness of the room stole her whole attention, making her forget all about her anxiety for a second.

Until she saw him.

Claude Frollo was lying on the floor, with his lifeless eyes open but not looking. His semi-opened lips were stained with the same liquid that formed a tiny puddle under his hand. Around it, scattered, fragments of glass from a small bottle with a parchment label.

It didn't took her new reading skills to know it was poison.


	37. Damnation

The room went dark slowly, as if some heavy, dense fog was coming over him. He had carefully studied the ingredients he needed and the range of action for each of them. He had no interest in suffering or losing control of his body. He just wanted it to be done. Over.

So he decided to make a mixture beverage of a fast-acting opiod that would knock him out, and a late-effect toxin that would eventually stop his organs and finally, his heart. This way, by the time the toxin began to kill him, he would already be unconscious and unaware of its painful effects.

The opiod kicked in sooner than he expected. He had planned on falling asleep peacefully, in front of the fire, while praying for his immortal soul. But a few seconds after he drank the last sip, he began to lose his balance. He moaned softly, with an upset stomach. It was vital (or rather, fatal) that he kept the liquid down, so he grabbed the edge of the table and forced himself to breathe deep through the nose, trying to avoid the nausea. But his legs failed to support him and he fell to the ground, still holding the glass bottle in his hand, which broke with the impact.

He tried to get up and crawl to the chair in front of the fire, but his body wasn't responding anymore. So he laid his face on the stone, finding some comfort in its coldness, and he observed as the images in front of him vanished into the dark fog of his brain shutting down.

His last moment of consciousness went to wondering if he would go straight to hell or if there would be some kind of previous experience, like the one he had lived when he nearly died a few weeks ago, when his soul had floated over to Notre Dame and had encountered his mother's spirit.

He no longer was sure that it had been his mother's spirit, or that any of what she said was true. How could it be true, if God's plan had been to punish him all along? It didn't make sense. However, he still considered what he had felt there to be the realest experience of his life, only equaled by what he had felt with Esmeralda. So maybe there still was a glimpse of hope.

Holding on to that glimpse, he surrendered his soul.

The darkness and absolute silence surrounded him, wrapping him like a thick, inescapable blanket.

And then, some tiny dots of dim white began to dance in front of his gaze, floating gracefully in the empty, black space around him.

_What was that?_ He wondered, curious. He tried stretching his hand to touch them, but when one came in contact with his skin, it promptly vanished. He reached for another one, this time closer to the height of his eyes so he could see better. Again, one of the white dots landed on his palm, and turned transparent and liquid.

Snowflakes.

It was snow.

He looked down to the ground and only then he realized that it was also covered in white. The sole of his dark boots was sunk in the snow. He looked around puzzled. _What was this place?_ But as his gaze reached beyond his feet, he realized he was on the brink of some steps. He looked up and his heart leaped with joy. The imposing view of the cathedral could only mean one thing… his wish had been granted. He was being given the opportunity to meet his mother's spirit again, before heading to his eternal damnation. He felt enormously relieved, and tried to propel himself towards the tower, where they had met the first time. But his feet didn't leave the ground.

He tried again, confused. Last time, it had only taken the power of his will to move around floating. But now he was actually feeling the floor beneath his feet. In fact, he was feeling his feet, which he had been unable to even see during his previous ghostly experience.

So he was no ghost, he concluded. He was feeling… _solid._

Fear began to creep in his chest with the lack of understanding. He looked up to Notre Dame again, and suddenly, every statue on its walls looked back at him, with staring, empty eyes. His terror grew beholding those menacing looks. He had only felt such terror once, on another snowy night like this one.

And then it clicked.

This was it. His personal hell wasn't made of fire. It was made of snow, terror and guilt. He was condemned to relive the worst sin of his life. The very thing he was trying to leave behind when he took the poison.

As if to confirm his suspicions, he heard a heavy door creaking, and he looked at the cathedral's feet, where one of the main lateral doors was opening.

Someone came through the door, and stood there, looking at him from afar.

It was a woman. Her dark hair and colorful clothes contrasted with her caramel skin.

A gypsy.

But not any gypsy.

Frollo swallowed hard, horrified. But of course _she_ would be the one to show up in that dreadful hellish nightmare. The one chosen to be his tormentor. She had probably waited a long time for this, and now the moment of justice and revenge had come.

His most primal instincts kicked in, and he looked around desperately, searching for a place to run and hide. But before he could began to move, the gypsy's voice broke the silence:

\- Frollo! - she called, and he became paralyzed in his spot.

It was hopeless. There was no place to run, no way to escape. No going back.

His knees weakened and he fell to the ground, where he adopted a fetal position, feeling the cold snow on his cheek, trying to protect himself for what was coming.

He watched the gypsy's feet walking towards him. The woman kneeled slowly before him, getting closer.

\- Please… - he pleaded with a trembling voice.

But when he looked at her face it was distorted, as if her human essence was turning demonic. Her voice sounded strangled with anger when she spoke:

\- What did you do?

Her accusatory words hammered his mind and heart. She knew exactly what he had done, of course. But she wasn't satisfied by that. She wanted him to know she knew. She wanted a confession.

\- I'm sorry! - he cried, shaking.

\- What did you do!? - the woman asked again, demanding an answer.

For the first time, he truly understood the magnitude of his crime. It was a long time ago that he had understood it rationally, that he had realized it had been wrong. But even so, he had never quite grasped the horror he had inflicted. Only now, as he laid defenseless on the floor, at the expense of a stronger being that held the power to decide what would happen to him, he deeply understood in his flesh and bone what the gypsy must have felt that night, when he had chased her and taken her life. An unbearable wave of regret and sorrow took over his entire being. He began weeping uncontrollably, finally falling apart. If he had understood then the way he did now, he would never have done that. The horror of being chased by a cruel, vindictive soul and knowing you don't stand a chance against it… how could he have inflict such damage onto another human being?

But there was a big, definite difference between what he had done and his current situation.

The gypsy had been innocent. He wasn't. She didn't deserve what happened to her, but he did.

So once again, Frollo realized there was no point in begging, or trying to resist. This wasn't cruel… this was justice. And he believed in justice up to its final consequences.

\- I'm so sorry. - he muttered again, looking back at her.

\- Damn you! - the gypsy yelled.

He couldn't blame her for her rage. It was the least he deserved.

But the woman wasn't satisfied with cursing. She suddenly grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him with all her strength. The violence of her grasp took him by surprise. He was shock at its solidity. It was nothing like the gentle touch of his mother's spirit. Apparently, hell was much more similar to physical life than that middle realm. It made sense, he thought. That way, whatever torture they put souls through, it would be felt in the realest of ways.

He got lost in this thought for a moment, finding the answers to the theological questions he had always pondered about. The gypsy must have noticed his absence somehow, for she slapped him hard, bringing him back to her raging figure. The pain was so real, it made him shiver in anticipation to what his eternal damnation would have in store for him.

\- How could you do this to me? - she cried out, and her voice cracked.

\- I'm so sorry! - he whined again, with another surge of guilt.

He wanted to explain that it had been all his fault, that it had nothing to do with her. He had been taken over by demons from his past, that twisted his judgment with prejudice and hate. He wanted to say that he saw now how unfair her death had been, that she was innocent. But before he could gather the courage to even begin to explain, she suddenly changed her attitude.

She let go of his shoulders and her hands covered her face as she wept. In between sharp sobs, she suddenly begged:

\- Please, don't take him!

Frollo was confused for a moment, but then it hit him. He had been so focused on the guilt from his murder that he had forgotten all about the other crime he had committed that night; separating a baby from his mother.

He hadn't even given the woman a chance to say goodbye, or to ask for mercy. He just ripped her baby son from her arms.

And now he was there, watching her desperate plea, hearing the anguish in her tone as she begged that what she loved most in this world wasn't taken away from her. It crushed his heart to dust.

He gave up completely. There was no ounce of himself left that didn't believe he deserved this fate.

As he thought that, he began to feel heavier, as if he was falling asleep. The sound of her crying started fading away, though he could still feel her right next to him. But he felt like he was slowly falling into a dark abyss below his body. He wanted to let go. Maybe he was being banished into oblivion, and his punishment ended with him ceasing to exist at all. He was okay with that.

But with the last bit of awareness left, he noticed the gypsy getting closer. He suddenly felt her hands on both sides of his face, the warmth of her palm on his cheek so different from the cold snow.

He didn't have any strength left to open his eyes, so what she did next caught him by surprise.

He felt the softest pressure on his lips.

His heart jumped weakly inside his ribs. The gentleness in which she was kissing him brought an unexpected surge of life and hope with it. He felt his cheeks wet with her tears, that were still flowing from her eyes. Her lips moved away an inch and he felt her warm breath as she whispered:

\- I love you, Claude.

He used the little strength he had just regained to slightly open his eyes, in absolute astonishment and disbelief. All he was able to see was her caramel face so close to his, but he managed to focus his gaze into her eyes for the first time. They were emerald.

* * *

.

* * *

Esmeralda was frozen in her spot, with the door still open behind her.

The image of the judge lying there on the floor, in that unnatural posture, with his empty eyes fixed in her direction, shook her to her core.

In a second, she understood everything. After everything that had happened in the past few days, he had killed himself with poison. The shock quickly became burning rage.

\- Frollo!- she yelled, racing towards him and slowly kneeling beside his body.

Once she was closer she was able to notice the almost inaudible sound of his breathing. It was shallow and intermittent, but it was there. _He was still alive!_ But his gaze was lost, and though his eyes reacted to the sound of her voice, she knew he wasn't seeing her.

\- What did you do? - she asked with a strangled tone.

Frollo didn't answer. In fact, he didn't look like he understood a word she was saying. She didn't know what was going on or how to help him, if there was anything that could help him at this point. She was so angry that he had put her in this position, and that she was now the only one that could do something when she didn't have a clue what to do. She didn't even know what kind of poison he had taken. If only he would tell her!

\- What did you do? - she insisted, demanding an answer.

She looked at the broken bottle, but didn't recognize any of the words written in the parchment. Even his handwriting was complicated, for God's sake! He had left nothing behind that she could use to save him.

\- Damn you! - she cursed loudly.

Her eyes began to fill with burning tears as the realization hit her. She couldn't save him. It was too late. He was going to die in front of her, and he didn't even know she was beside him.

Another wave of rage took over her, and she grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him violently, in a desperate attempt to wake him up. His head hanged back and forth, lifeless. She saw his eyes beginning to close, so she slapped him hard, but not even that made the judge react. He was gone beyond her reach.

\- How could you do this to me? - she cried, and her voice cracked.

The pain of his betrayal felt like a knife to her heart. Despite everything that had happened between them, she realized that a part of her had always believed they would figure it out, and be together in the end. But he hadn't believed that. He had given up on her, unilaterally deciding their future once again. Stealing her choice away.

That painful realization washed away the rage, leaving her with only heartbreak and anguish. What was the point of resisting, or being angry, when the die was cast?

She let go of Frollo's shoulders, and the judge's body fell limp to the floor.

There was only one thing left that she could do. Something she wasn't used to do, but which seemed like the only hope left.

\- Please, don't take him. - she begged God, covering her face with her palms.

Her sharp sobs made it impossible for her to say anything else, but her heart silently continued her prayer; _don't take him. Don't accept his soul. Give it back, bring it back to me. Please. I know he's done bad things, but there's light in him, I know it! He just needs another chance. Please… I love him._

Once again, she noticed Frollo's eyes closing, and his breaths became more spaced from each other. This was it. He was dying now. Not even her prayer would save him.

She carefully took his face between her hands. She shivered when she realized it was almost as cold as the stone floor.

She studied his relaxed features. He looked so peaceful that for a second, she didn't feel angry anymore. The everlasting wrinkles on his forehead were miraculously gone. His suffering was coming to an end. But it wasn't fair. It only meant her suffering had just begun, and would last forever.

The tears dropping from her eyes fell onto his cheeks, sliding down to his lips. The same lips that had insulted her, mocked her, comforted her, loved her. The lips of the man she loved.

She leaned forward and kissed those lips in the gentlest way possible.

\- I love you, Claude. - she whispered, giving up all hope.

And then she felt the softest movement in his face. She leaned back an inch, to get a better look. His eyelids were struggling to open. She watched astonished as his gaze wandered around her face, trying to focus. And then he looked her in the eye, and for the first time, Esmeralda knew he was aware of her presence.

\- Claude!?- she called, with her own eyes opening widely, and her heart racing again.

The judge blinked languidly again, she felt him trying to move his head but unable to hold its weight. He grunted.

\- What did you take? How can I help you? - she hurried him anxiously.

But the man was too far gone to be able to articulate any answer.

\- God, Claude, please! - she begged him.

The urgency in her tone helped him gather his strength. With a titanic effort, he lifted his fingers from the ground, weakly pointing towards the table, and then with a soft moan, he dropped unconscious.

But it was enough. Esmeralda jumped to the table and her eyes scanned its surface at full speed. In one of the corners she saw a group of small glass bottles like the one Frollo was holding. She reached for them so urgently that she almost dropped all of them, but her quick reflexes prevented it.

She took a deep breath, for the excess adrenaline was making her vision blurry. But fortunately, it was also making her brain sharper than ever. So it wasn't hard for her to read the labels on each bottle. To her dismay, she didn't recognized the names of the plants or substances the first two ones contained. But then, her heart stopped in her chest when she read the third label. _"Antidote"._


	38. Understanding

Frollo wasn't waking up.

Esmeralda had forced the entire content of the _"Antidote"_ little bottle down his throat, and made sure that he swallowed most of it. She was now kneeling beside him again, anxiously observing for the slightest change in his face.

His eyes were still closed, and his lips barely open.

But he was breathing. As the minutes went by, Esmeralda's heart slowed a bit when she saw that he kept breathing, slowly but regularly. She searched for a pulse in his neck and was relieved to check that his heartbeat was steady. He just looked like he was deeply asleep.

She didn't know how long she was supposed to wait, but she figured that however it was, she might as well get comfortable. So, with great effort, she dragged the unconscious man across the room towards the wall, where the proximity of the fireplace created the warmest spot in the room. She sat with her back against the wall, and placed Frollo's limp head on her lap. The man let out a small grunt of pleasure when his skull found the comfort of her thighs instead of the cold, hard stone. Esmeralda chuckled when she recognized the sound, for it was the same one he usually made in his sleep when she cuddled next to him.

And then she bursted into tears.

As the adrenaline finally faded in her blood, watching him alive, all the emotions that had been contained behind the dam of urgent action ran free at last. She cried out her anguish, her anger, her fear, her pain. She even allowed herself to feel guilty for a minute, guilty that she had caused him such heartbreak that he had gone this far. Only to then feel angry again because she wasn't the one to blame, and he had decided to leave her behind. The complex emotions circled on and on, leaving her exhausted when she finally was done crying.

She laid her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing.

She didn't know how long it had been when Frollo's head finally moved on her legs, waking her up.

\- Hmm...- the judge moaned, blinking.

She immediately got alert again, unsure what to expect.

\- I'm here. - she said softly.- You're okay.

Frollo was completely disoriented. Where was he? What had happened? It took him a second to realize Esmeralda was there. But how was that possible? Had it all been a dream? Or more accurately, a nightmare?

His brain hurt when he tried to mentally trace back his steps. It was all so foggy and incoherent that he felt nauseous.

\- What happened? - he asked, with a scratchy voice, trying to focus his gaze on her face.

He noticed her eyes and nose were red and swollen. She had been crying. She looked terrible, as if she was consumed by some inner illness. Her voice was also scratchy when she answered his question:

\- I… found you here. I gave you an antidote. - she explained, pointing to the table.

Frollo followed her gesture with his eyes, and it was then that he realized he was lying on the floor of his medical chamber, in the dungeons.

Then, her words reached his mind, and when he understood the meaning of "antidote", he suddenly remembered everything.

The poison. Him, preparing it carefully. Him, writing a goodbye letter to Quasimodo. Him, deciding there was no point in living anymore because… Because she had found out his secret.

The weight of this realizations made him nauseous again. It was too much information condensed in a few seconds.

_But wait_. She was here. She was gently holding his head in her lap and he could feel her hand absently stroking his hair. How had that come to happen?

\- Why…? - he asked, unable to articulate anything else. But she understood.

\- I felt something was wrong. Well, actually… it was Snowball.

_Snow._

The images from the snowy night and the cathedral came flooding back. He had seen the gypsy woman, Quasimodo's mother, coming to get him for revenge. He had thought that he was in hell. But he was still alive.

\- I don't understand. - Frollo moaned frustrated, closing his eyes and frowning deeply.

\- Neither do I. - Esmeralda replied, and he heard the underlying anger latent in her tone.

Frollo opened his eyes to look at her again. Her emerald gaze was filled with accusation, though he wasn't sure of what exactly she was recriminating him. However, he consider it an improvement that at least now she seemed willing to listen.

He tried getting up, though his head and stomach immediately protested.

\- Take it easy. - Esmeralda ordered firmly, but she supported his shoulders to help him sit straight.

She moved aside, leaving more space in the wall so he could place his back against it.

\- Do you have clean water here?- she asked, looking around at all the glass jars filled with unknown substances.

With a grunt, Frollo pointed near the door, where there was a large, earthenware amphora. She walked to it and with an empty glass jar she found on the table, she collected some water from its cool interior.

She crouched beside the judge and offered him the water. Frollo drank slowly, and the cool liquid helped him regain some clarity.

\- Thank you. - he muttered, as he watched her sit in front of him with her legs and arms crossed, staring down to the ground.

She looked so upset, so… defeated.

\- I'm sorry. - Frollo said, with a strangled voice.

He felt his heart broken as well, watching the ripple effect of his crimes had managed to reach her across time and space. His hellish vision had helped him understand the pain he had inflicted upon Quasimodo's mother, and the fact that during that hallucination, the one he had been interacting with was Esmeralda all along, made him realize that it could have been her. If he had ran into her in different circumstances, in a different moment of his life, she could have been the one to perish under his hate. _In fact_, he reminded himself, she had actually been close to perishing under his hate for her entire kind, at the pyre.

\- I didn't know… - he mumbled, trying to explain his lack of understanding in the past, and his newly acquired awareness.

\- You didn't know? - she repeated, sarcastically. - You didn't know that poison would kill you?

\- What? - Frollo asked, puzzled. - Is that why you're angry?

\- Are you kidding me?- Esmeralda yelled, looking at him in disbelief. - What else would I be angry about?

Frollo looked utterly confused. He was so baffled that for a moment, he second-guessed his own brain, trying hard to discern if his memories of the past few days were real or still influenced by the opioid.

_But they weren't_, he concluded. Because the very reason he had taken the poison was the fact that she had discovered the kind of monster he was.

\- Ehm… - he hesitated, throwing her a meaningful, still confused look.

It took Esmeralda a second to remember any of what had happened before she had entered the dungeon and found him laying on the floor.

\- _That!_ That is a different conversation. - she remarked, shaking her head. - It is not the point right now!

\- What is, then? - Frollo asked tentatively.

She looked at him with the pain of his betrayal carved into her eyes.

\- You tried to kill yourself. - she spit.

\- I… - Frollo hesitated. He inhaled deeply, and tried to sound as calm and dignified as possible when he said – I honestly didn't think you would care.

\- Then you're an idiot. - she snapped, getting up from the floor because the anger boiling in her veins again made it impossible for her to stay still. - If you really thought that… you're not the intelligent man I took you to be.

Frollo felt the sting of her words and he was deeply offended. He wasn't some kind of dramatic fool! If he had arrived to that conclusion, it was for solid reasons.

\- But you left me! - he claimed, trying to defend himself.

\- No, I didn't! - she replied, opening her hands in a wide gesture, as if she was stating the obvious.

\- But you did… - Frollo insisted, weakly.

\- I didn't. - she repeated. - You truly think I stayed at your stables because I can't take care of myself anywhere else? If I had wanted to leave you for real, you would have never seen me again!

\- What does that mean? - he asked, not wanting to get his hopes up.

\- It means we had a fight, and I needed some time to figure things out. - she explained with a frustrated tone.

\- A _fight_? - Frollo repeated in disbelief. - Is that what you call it?

\- Well, _yes_! People fight. Couples fight. - she said defensively, realizing it was the first time she had referred to them as a couple out loud.

Frollo noticed that too, but he was still focused on trying to justify his actions.

\- I don't think it could be considered a fight when one of the parts isn't allowed to speak on their behalf.

Esmeralda stared at him, pondering his words. The judge looked defiant on the surface, but she could also see the fear and hurt that lied underneath.

\- You're right about that. - she yielded, softening her tone a little. - But I just couldn't deal with it at the moment.

She shook her head, and he caught a glimpse of the heavy burden she had been carrying around. He went from feeling offended to feeling guilty again in a second. Esmeralda sat back in front of him, and taking a deep breath, she announced:

\- But I'm willing to listen now.

Frollo gasped briefly. This took him by surprise. He had never actually believed that he would ever be granted the opportunity to defend himself. But this was his chance. His chance to say something, to elaborate a version of the story in which he could be seen as something other than a ruthless villain. To convince her that he was worth loving. Every corner of his mind joined together to fabricate a believable explanation.

But then something weird happened. The scheming machinery of his mind was stopped in its tracks by a more powerful force, coming from his heart.

And he realized that he didn't want to make up any story. He didn't want to defend himself. He wanted to let it all go. To reveal the truth, to set his heart free at last, to be faithful to his new understading of things. He didn't want to convince her to love him. He wanted to show himself as he was, and hope she would chose to do it on her own free will.

\- There's really not so much to tell. - he said calmly. - I guess you know all there is to know.

His attitude of surrender stunned her. Esmeralda was expecting to see the cunning, twisting-reality-to-his-convenience Judge Frollo at his best. But the man before her seemed completely unarmed and honest.

Her heart was suddenly filled with a genuine will to understand.

\- Why…? - she swallowed, gathering her strength. - Why did you kill her?

\- Because she was a gypsy.- Frollo answered truthfully. - If she hadn't been, if it had been anyone else, I would have just captured her and questioned her, I would have granted her a trial. But, because she was a gypsy, I just never doubted that she was up to no good, and needed to be stopped at any cost. I was biased. I was under the spell of my own hate and despise… and that made me fail as a judge. But most of all, it made me fail as a human being.

Esmeralda listened carefully, with tears in her eyes. Her pain for her fellow gypsy was equaled by her pain for the judge. She saw the hurt in Frollo's expression, and struggled to say something:

\- I understand that. - she stated quietly. - I understand why you feel that way about us. You told me your story… what happened with your parents. And… - she hesitated, fighting the urge to cry and trying to be as honest as he was being. - And I know that you're partially right. I know my people even better than you do. And I love them. I see all the good things in them that you're unable to see. But I see the bad things as well… I know that sometimes they don't care about rules of any kind… even moral ones. That has always caused me pain. You know, even my parents… Clopin's parents, I mean. The ones who adopted me as a baby, and raised me… well, I know his father was a thief. Sometimes he would bring us nice things and tell us stories about his adventures finding hidden treasures, and it wasn't until I grew older that I realized those stories were made up to hid his thefts.

Frollo was astonished at her honesty. But most of all, he was astonished at the fact that she was trying to understand him, instead of judging his actions. He was afraid of doing or saying anything that would change her mind, so he just stood there in complete silence as she kept going.

\- But I also know he mostly stole for food, so we wouldn't starve. Because no one was willing to hire a gypsy and pay him a fair fare for his work. They wouldn't trust him, because they thought gypsies are thieves and criminals- she affirmed, throwing him a meaningful look.

Frollo nodded slowly, understanding her point.

\- Claude… - she said, shaking her head, lost in her thoughts. - We could trace the pain and conflict through both of our bloodlines to the beginning of time. And we would both find a countless amount of valid reasons to distrust each other's side. I don't think we would ever be able to get to a point where we determine who was right first. I don't think such point even exists.

The judge was holding his breath, profoundly impacted by her words.

\- And that doesn't mean we're all bad people. I think it just means we're all human, and afraid, and we don't want to get hurt, or the people we care about to get hurt.

\- Hmm- Frollo nodded, as he began to tremble with emotion.

\- It doesn't make our bad actions right. Murdering an innocent will never be right. - she stated, and she saw him lowering his gaze to his lap again.

Esmeralda moved towards him, and kneeled by his side. She gently took Frollo's chin and lifted it so he would look at her again.

\- But taking advantage of a child's innocence and attacking him will never, ever, be right either.

His eyes were filled with tears and she suddenly saw the boy he had been so many years ago, still living inside him, coming out to the surface to hear those comforting words that would finally reassure him.

She couldn't fight the urge to kiss him. Frollo stood still as her lips tenderly wrapped his own, both their faces wet with tears. He broke away from the kiss when a sharp sob climbed up his throat. He sank his face on her neck, surrounded by her thick hair, and she cradled him there gently.

\- I'm so sorry. - he bawled, his whole body shaking.

\- I know. I know. - she whispered, rocking him back and forth.

They stood there, holding each other, until Frollo's breathing finally slowed down again. He leaned back, embarrassed by his sudden outburst, but Esmeralda's face was filled with understanding and affection.

\- You know… - she said, sitting by his side and leaning her back against the wall. - I don't think we can ever move beyond any of this by looking at the past. I think the only way we can find a meaning for all that has happened is focusing on the future. Allowing it to change us for the better, and doing the better thing next time. Breaking the pattern of hate and heartbreak.

\- You're right. - Frollo stated, amazed by the simplicity and clarity with which he saw things now, looking through her lens. - I think you're the kindest, wisest person I've ever met. - he confessed, still ashamed of himself.

Esmeralda looked at him, who was staring at the ground again. She took a deep breath, considering her next words.

\- However… - she began, and the change in her tone made Frollo stiffen, alert again. - I'm not sure I can forgive you for today.

Frollo's cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

\- Esmeralda, I truly thought all was lost. - he explained nervously. - If I had even suspected that you would be so understanding…

\- That's no excuse. - she interrupted him sharply.

He shut his mouth, afraid of saying anything else that could make things worse.

\- You said you would never let me go.- she accused. - You said you would always love me. You said I would always be safe with you. And I trusted you.

\- It was all true. - he stated convincingly.

\- No, it wasn't. You just proved it wasn't! You just told me before that you thought I had left you… even if I was still here, living practically under your roof, you thought you had lost me, right?

\- Right. - Frollo confirmed, with a strangled voice.

\- And see how that made you feel? And yet, you were determined to do the same thing to me. You were about to leave me, except that your leaving was irreversible and forever. Don't you see the problem there? You broke every promise you ever made to me!

Her voice cracked, as she pridefully tried to held back her tears, looking away so he wouldn't see her face.

\- I guess I didn't see it that way. - Frollo confessed in a low tone. - I didn't thought you'd care about those promises anymore.

She threw him an infuriated glance, only to find him trying to repress a smile.

\- Why the hell are you smiling now? - she asked, half irritated half surprised.

\- I'm sorry, I'm not – he quickly clarified, though the edge of his lips was still slightly curved.- I just… does this mean you still… love me? - he dared to ask.

\- Well, yes, you idiot!- she replied with exasperation. - Of course I love you. I can't seem to be able to stop, _you know?_ \- she pointed out bitterly. - But I can't keep doing this! - she exclaimed, with a hint of desperation in her tone.

\- What? - Frollo asked, feeling his hear shrinking again in fear.

\- I can't be with you if you don't trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you. I can't have you doubting that, any time conflict comes our way. I need to be able to be mad at you without fearing that I'm going to find you laying half-dead on the floor! - she said in an accusatory tone. - We are both hot tempered, and I intend to stick around for a long time, so I _will_ get mad at you. And you will get mad at me! And sometimes, maybe, we will need some space from each other. But if we're in this together, I need to know you won't decide on our future unilaterally anymore! You can't **_ever_** bail on me like this again! - she yelled, and only then he realized the terror she had felt when she thought he was gone.

\- I won't.- he immediately reassured her. - You're right. I should have given you the chance to… I don't know. I'm sorry. But you see… it's already hard for me to understand… - he hesitated, his cheeks reddening again. But her eyes were fixed upon his, her unavoidable gaze demanding an answer. He cleared his throat, trying to sound steady - It's already hard for me to understand why you chose to love me in the first place. So I wouldn't dare to dream that it would be possible that you continued to do it after you found out…

\- I didn't choose to love you, Claude. - Esmeralda stated plainly. - I chose to stay at the palace to save my people. I chose to be open enough to get to know you. I chose to kiss you, that night. I chose to be with you, despite… well, everything. But loving you, wasn't a choice. I didn't have a choice in that. Not even after finding out your secret. And believe me, I tried. I was so mad that you lied to me all this time… But I couldn't. It doesn't depend on me. It's just part of who I am, it's in my soul.

\- I see...- Frollo murmured, mesmerized by her words. He understood what she was referring to, for he had felt the exact same way since the beginning with her. He had never stood a chance against the love he had felt, no matter how hard he'd tried. He finally realized that they were indeed on the same page, and that her loving him wasn't some kind of transient trance she was going to wake up from any given day.

He turned towards her. Esmeralda had her eyes fixed on the fire. He attempted to hold her hand but she pulled away, and looked at him with hurt in her eyes.

\- I mean what I said. I won't choose to stay if you can't guarantee that you won't ever do something like this again.

\- I won't. I swear to you, from this day on, I will fight with everything I've got, until my last breath, to stay alive and by your side.

\- You swear? - she asked, her eyes filled with tears, and her lips yielding with a smile, amused but equally moved by his vehement choice of words.

\- I swear. - he affirmed.

\- Good. - she said, suddenly throwing her arms around him and squeezing him in a tight hug that caught him off guard.

But his heart exploded with joy, and his arms surrounded her too, as he felt her warmth invading his body, like the sun rising after a long, cold night. He felt such gratitude and relief that his whole body wanted to leap and dance around.

However, she leaned back slowly, and he saw in her face that there was still something troubling her.

\- What is it? - he asked, concerned.

\- There's still one more thing we need to do. - she said slowly.

\- What? - he inquired, intrigued.

\- We have to tell Quasimodo the truth.


	39. The Confession

\- I can't. - Frollo said, horrified.

Esmeralda withdrew her arms from him, leaning away so she could get a better look of his face. He looked desperately worried.

\- Have you never thought of telling him before? - she asked, with involuntary accusation in her tone.

\- Of course I have! - Frollo defended himself, and the growing anxiety gave him enough strength to finally get up from the floor. - But it would destroy him! And he would never forgive me. - he added, grimly.

\- What's the plan, then? Taking the secret to your grave? - she replied, getting up behind him, as he began to pace across the room.

\- No. - Frollo answered without second thought. She saw him hesitating to say anything else.

\- So…? - she invited him to continue.

\- I wrote him a letter. - he explained reluctantly. - It's right there, on the table. I was hoping that whoever found me would get it to him.

Esmeralda was suddenly hurt that he hadn't thought of leaving_ her_ a letter. However, this was no longer about her. She tried to get back to the point.

\- So that means you were ready to tell the truth! - she concluded.

\- It's not that simple. - Frollo refuted, shaking his head. - The only reason I wrote him the truth was because I knew I wouldn't be here anymore when he got the letter.

\- How brave of you. - she stated sarcastically.

Frollo threw her a hurtful look.

\- I'm sorry. - she quickly apologized.- Look… I know it's hard. But if you truly want to redeem yourself, this is the right thing to do.

\- How are you so sure? - he asked, skeptical.

\- What do you mean? You don't think telling the truth is better than lying? - she replied, confused.

\- Well, generally, yes. - Frollo said carefully. - But think about what this particular truth will do to him. Not only will he be traumatized by it, but he will also feel betrayed by me. His faith and trust will shatter. And I do love him, Esmeralda. That is not a lie. But he won't see it that way, I'm afraid.

She pondered his words, biting her lower lip with concern.

\- I don't know how he will react. - she admitted. - Maybe you're right, and he will never forgive you. But even so… just consider this for a moment. - she asked, walking towards him.

Frollo turned to look at her again, intrigued.

\- You know the pain of being an orphan, the pain of knowing your parents are dead, that they were taken away from you, by whatever power took them.

The judge nodded cautiously.

\- I know the pain of being abandoned. You've seen how that shaped me. The darkness it created inside of me, the constant feeling of unworthiness, despite having people who cared for me and loved me.

\- Aha. - he nodded again.

\- Now consider this. As horrible as it was to lose your parents… or your mother, at least – she clarified, remembering the stories he had told her about his father. - Would you rather know that she had voluntarily chosen to leave you alone in this world?

Frollo inhaled deeply, understanding her point. Esmeralda saw his reaction and was encouraged to keep talking.

\- Quasimodo has spent his entire life believing he was unworthy of his mother's love. That she chose to leave him behind, abandoning him in the cold streets. And I bet my life that he has felt that inner darkness as well. His heart is so pure, much purer than mine… so he turned his pain into compassion and kindness for others. But it is still there, that pain. That deep belief that no one will ever truly love him. And you're the only one that can take it away.

\- But I wouldn't be taking it away… - Frollo protested. - I would just be trading it for another kind of pain. He will go from believing his mother was unable to love him to believing even the one person he has always thought loved him, myself, actually never did. Do you think that's better?

\- I don't know if it's better. - Esmeralda answered truthfully. - But I think that he's the one who should be making that choice. If you tell him and he chooses to believe that you never loved him, he will have lost you… but maybe he will have gained the opportunity to find love somewhere else, finally believing he's worth it. That could change his life. You owe him the chance.

\- What about _me_? - Frollo asked then, looking away in embarrassment.

Esmeralda felt deeply moved when she realized the extent to which Frollo truly cared about Quasimodo. The way the judge treated the bell ringer, it was so formal and aloof, that even if she rationally knew that the man cared for his adoptive son, she had barely witnessed it from an emotional point of view.

\- I hope he will find the way to forgive you… - she said quietly, stroking his arm. - Love has a way of making the impossible, possible. - she added with a weak smile.

But Frollo was shaking his head, with his eyes closed.

\- But even if he doesn't- Esmeralda said, grabbing both of Frollo's hands with her own. The judge opened his eyes to look at her. - I will stand by you. You won't do this alone. We'll get through it together. - she promised.

The judge let out a sigh of surrender.

\- Alright. - he yielded at last.

* * *

.

* * *

\- Finally! - Quasimodo yelled, visibly relieved, when he saw Frollo and Esmeralda climbing the ladder to his quarters. - I was so worried! - he recriminated.

\- Hi, Quasi! It's been quite a week. - Esmeralda greeted him, with an apologetic smile.

\- Where were you? - he asked anxiously, and then he looked at Frollo. - You could have let me know you found her!

\- I'm sorry, Quasimodo. - Frollo said quietly. The lad noticed the dark circles around his eyes.

\- Are you alright? - he asked the judge, concerned.

Frollo swallowed, unable to answer, so Esmeralda stepped in.

\- We're just tired. But how are you? How is your head? - she asked, trying to change the subject.

\- Oh, it's just a bump. - Quasimodo replied, rubbing his hair on the place he had been hit by the gypsies.

\- Let me see. - she said, getting closer and carefully moving his hair away to examine the skin. There was no open wound, but the area was inflamed and red.

\- I'm fine, really. - he insisted, blushing under her gentle touch.

\- I'm so sorry they did this to you. - she said, visibly upset.

\- Well, we didn't expect a warm welcome with flowers and wine anyway, did we? - Quasimodo joked, winking at Frollo.

The judge winced, trying to smile back, but he only managed to grit his teeth in an awkward grimace. Esmeralda witnessed his poor attempt and moved to get herself between the two men, in front of Quasimodo.

\- Anyway, it was wrong. I can't believe Clopin hurt you, he knows you're my friend!

\- He didn't mean to … which reminds me! - Quasimodo suddenly exclaimed, turning around and rushing to his bed.

Esmeralda seized the opportunity of his brief absence to turn towards Frollo.

\- I can't do this. - the judge muttered anxiously. - I need to go.

\- No. - Esmeralda replied, walking to him and grabbing his hand. - We've talked about this, you know it's the right thing to do.

\- But I will crush him! - Frollo argued, devastated.

\- Look… - the gypsy whispered, looking over her shoulder to make sure Quasimodo was still gone. - If you really want to go, I won't hold you back. But I'm here with you, and I think you can do this.

Frollo looked deep into her emerald eyes, and her reassuring gaze calmed his heart a little. He then looked away, frowning, pondering his options.

\- Here! - Quasimodo said, getting back to them.

He studied their faces for a minute. It was clear that something was going on, as they both looked concerned. He felt guilty that he was about to deliver such bad news.

\- Esmeralda… - he began, tentatively. - There's something I need to tell you.

The woman looked at him surprised.

\- What is it? - she asked cautiously.

\- Maybe we can sit down for this? - Quasimodo suggested.

Once again, he saw the couple exchanging a weird look, as if they were hiding something. Maybe there was something going on between them, something that had nothing to do with him. Yes, that was probably it. Anyway, he hoped that what he was about to reveal wouldn't make it worse.

He pointed to the table, so the three of them sat in the benches around it.

\- What is it, Quasi? - Esmeralda asked again, baffled.

\- Clopin came to see me yesterday. He snuck into the cathedral after mass, given the crowd.

\- Aha… - she nodded, intrigued. - What did he want?

\- He said he had come to check up on me… That he was feeling guilty for their assault.

\- Right. - she spat sarcastically.

\- I think he was honest. - Quasimodo replied, shaking his head. - He explained that they only meant to get you. - he pointed to Frollo.

\- Well, that's quite the consolation. - Esmeralda stated with great irony.

\- Anyway, he apologized, and I forgave him. - the lad concluded.- Though he reminded me that we must not show up in their place under any circumstance again.

\- We weren't intending to. - Frollo pointed out grimly.

Esmeralda was shaking her head, dissapointed. Quasimodo hesitated, and then reached across the table to grab her hand. Frollo was surprised by this gesture, but he said nothing.

\- Anyway… that's not the only thing he said. - Quasimodo explained, lowering his tone.

\- What else? Any other threats I should be aware of? - Esmeralda asked bitterly.

\- No… He came to tell me that something happened. - his tone was dark and concerned.

\- What? - she asked again, this time actually getting worried.

Quasimodo looked at Frollo, trying to get his support. But the man had the weirdest expression, one he was unable to decipher, like a mixture of dread and nervousness. Whatever was going on with him, Quasimodo realized he wasn't going to be very helpful. So he looked at Esmeralda again, who was waiting anxiously for his response.

\- There's no easy way to say it. - he excused himself, lowering his eyes to the table. - He said your father died yesterday.

Frollo was utterly shocked. Of all the scenarios he had envisioned when thinking about this conversation, he never imagined that Quasimodo would be the one revealing shocking news about parents, and not the other way around.

He looked at Esmeralda, who seemed calm.

\- Did he tell you what happened? - she asked, quietly.

\- He died in his sleep. - Quasimodo answered, trying to offer some consolation. - He didn't suffer.

\- Okay. - she said, nodding slowly.

\- I'm so sorry. - the lad murmured, squeezing her hand.

\- Hmm… it's okay. - Esmeralda said, though her voice sounded scratchy. - We hadn't been close for a long time. He was quite older than our mother, and she was the one who raised Clopin and me… He was always out in some… _adventure_, as he would call it.

Frollo remembered what she had told him the day before, about his adoptive father being a thief and telling them stories of the "hidden treasures" he had found.

\- Even so...- the judge began, as he gently placed his palm on her forearm. - It must be painful to lose him.

\- Yeah… - she said, absently. - I'm not sure how to feel.

Frollo understood. When his own father had died, he had felt all sorts of emotions. Grief was there, of course, but also the big relief of finally being free of his abuser. And then, the guilt for feeling so relieved and not too sad. He knew how complicated family ties could get.

\- Whatever you're feeling, it's natural. - he tried to reassure her.

She threw him a weak smile, moved by his unusual display of empathy and emotional wisdom.

\- Thank you.- she whispered warmly. - And thank you too, for telling me. - she told Quasimodo with another weak smile.

\- Of course. - Quasimodo nodded, returning her sad smile. - Clopin asked me to give you this. He said he didn't want to see you himself, but that his father had requested that you had it, and he wanted to honor his wish.

He reached with his other hand, that was closed, holding something. He carefully dropped it on the table, in front of her. It was a silver ring, with a small sapphire on it. She took it to get a better look, and her eyes teared up.

\- This was his ring. - she explained. - He wore it for as long as I can remember. He used to tell me it was magical, it had protective properties that kept him safe on his adventures. I always wanted to borrow it as a kid… but it was too big for my girly fingers. - she tried it on, and it fit her middle finger almost perfectly. - It fits now. - she declared, and a tear rolled down her cheek. - Thank you.

\- You're welcome – Quasimodo responded, moved. - Maybe its magic properties will protect you now. - he suggested, with a bright smile.

\- I'm sure they will. - Esmeralda agreed, smiling back.- This will be the perfect way to remember him.- she stated, contemplating her hand, and trying to stick to the good memories of the man, instead of the bad ones.

\- A father is a father. - Quasimodo said with a shrug. - Not that I know, but… Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean… - he quickly apologized, when he saw Frollo flinching at the sound of his words.

The judge felt his mouth dry and his heartbeat speeding. This was it. This was his cue for coming clean.

Esmeralda noticed it too, and her free hand reached for his under the table. She squeezed it reassuringly.

Frollo cleared his throat and he inhaled deeply.

\- Now that you mention it… - he began, and the sound of his voice was so tense and forced that he barely recognized it. - There's something I've been meaning to tell you.

\- Oh, really? - Quasimodo inquired, curious. - What is it?

But Frollo's eyes were fixed on the table and he seemed unable to articulate anything else. Esmeralda looked at him concerned, and after a few seconds of silence, she decided to intervene. However, when she took a breath to start talking, Frollo stopped her.

\- No. This is on me. - he said, shaking his head.

She nodded, and just squeezed his hand tighter.

\- Quasimodo...- Frollo began again. The lad was observing him carefully, eager to know what the judge was about to reveal. - I should have told you this many years ago… once you got old enough to understand. But I never found the right moment, or… to be fair, I never wanted to find the right moment.

\- Okay… - Quasimodo invited him to continue. - What is it?

\- Remember how I told you that the archdeacon and I found you abandoned as a baby at the cathedral's steps?

The lad nodded slowly, beginning to fear where the story was heading.

\- Well… that's not how it happened.

Quasimodo's body stiffened involuntarily in anticipation. But it wasn't the fact that he was about to find out the truth about his origins what frightened him. It was the fact that Frollo seemed completely unable to look him in the eye. The usually composed and cold judge seemed to be falling apart right in front of his eyes. And that could only mean that what he was about to reveal was worse than Quasimodo could imagine.

\- You weren't abandoned, Quasimodo. - Frollo said at last. And then, he took a deep breath and gathered every ounce of strength and courage he had left to be able to look at him in the eye as he said these next words. - Your mother loved you fiercely. She did everything in her power to protect you… and she fought so bravely to remain by your side.

Esmeralda gasped softly, as her heart bursted. She realized what Frollo was doing; he was desperately trying to make sure that Quasimodo would know he had been loved, so when he lost his only father figure, he would at least have that consolation. Even if speaking that way about Quasimodo's mother only made him look worse and crueler.

She was so moved by his selflessness that she could barely contain the urge to hug him.

\- She did? - Quasimodo asked, in disbelief.

\- Yes, she did. - Frollo confirmed, holding his gaze to transmit as much confidence and certainty as he was able to.

\- Then...what happened to her? - Quasimodo inquired, hesitant. He was pretty sure of the answer, but still, he needed to hear it.

\- She died. - Frollo explained, confirming his suspicions.

\- Oh… - Quasimodo muttered, lost in his thoughts. - And that's when you adopted me? - he asked.

Frollo lowered his gaze, his heart about to pump out of his chest. It would be so easy to just say yes, and let that be the story. It was all _technically_ true. This way, Quasimodo wouldn't feel that he had been unworthy of love from the beginning, but he would get to keep him as well. No harm done… _right?_

He looked at Esmeralda. She was staring at him, waiting for his decision. She was perfectly aware of the inner battle he was fighting in that very moment. And she had already made her choice, that if he hid the fact that he had been the one to murder the woman, she would not judge him. It was an impossible situation, and she knew the pain Frollo was facing. She couldn't blame him if he chose not to reveal that crucial, devastating detail.

But it was precisely the lack of judgment in Esmeralda's gaze what tipped the scales. Her pure, unconditional love, despite everything she knew about him, made Frollo realize that it was the same kind of love he wanted to be able to show Quasimodo. And that kind of love couldn't be supported by any more lies. Whatever that cost him.

\- The truth is more complicated than that, I'm afraid. - he stated, fighting hard to be able to look at Quasimodo. The lad seemed puzzled and worried. - I want you to know that I will never, ever be able to express how sorry I am, Quasimodo.

\- For what? - Quasimodo asked, refusing to consider what was coming to his mind.

\- I was the one to take you away from him. - Frollo confessed, and his voice cracked.

\- I don't understand. - Quasimodo said in a low tone, though his heart was already grasping the meaning of what his mind refused to face.

\- I caused her death. I killed her. It was me. - Frollo blurted, and he hid his face in his hands, filled with shame and sorrow.

He didn't see the expression on Quasimodo's face, but Esmeralda did.

She watched his eyes and mouth opening widely in disbelief. She practically saw the thousand questions that were coming to his mind, and how he discarded every one of them because none of them truly mattered.

She watched him shaking his head over and over, unable to accept what he had just heard.

She watched him get up from the bench, and moving erratically around the room, heading for the outside and then back, and then towards his bedroom, and then back again. Struggling to decide on what of the many emotions that were overwhelming him should take the upper hand.

She watched him crumbling down to his knees, burying his face on his arms and beginning to sob violently, still denying with his head.

Her heart was torn. She wanted to rush to him and wrap him in her arms, but she also wanted to remain by Frollo's side, as his heart shattered with the sound of Quasimodo's crying.

But before she could make a decision on where she was needed most, Quasimodo suddenly stopped his sobbing right away. He got up from the floor and turned towards them, his face flaring red with rage.

\- GET OUT! - he yelled, pointing at Frollo.

The judge looked at him, horrified by his contorted expression.

\- Quasimodo, please… - he begged.

\- OUT! - the bell ringer repeated, pointing to the exit with a menacing gesture. - And never come back! - he added furiously.

Frollo got up from the bench, lifting his palms in a pacifying gesture.

\- I'll go. - he assured him. - But we'll need to discuss…

\- THERE'S NOTHING TO DISCUSS! - the lad replied, out of control. - YOU'RE A MONSTER! YOU'VE LIED MY ENTIRE LIFE! **_YOU_** SHOULD BE THE ONE DEAD!

\- Quasi! - Esmeralda called, desperately trying to stop the increasing violence.

\- You!- Quasimodo yelled, pointing at her. - You knew this!?

\- I… - she hesitated, throwing Frollo a quick glance.

\- You're just like him! - Quasimodo accused, throwing his arms above his head. - I thought you were different! I thought we were friends!

\- We are!- she tried to defend herself, with a strangled voice.

\- No, we're not! I never want to see you again! Clopin was right about you all along... It takes a monster to love a monster! - he stated, pointing at both of them.

Frollo tried to say something in her defense, as she was paralyzed in her spot, but Quasimodo didn't give him the chance.

\- GET OUT NOW! BOTH OF YOU! DON'T COME BACK! - he yelled again, walking towards them, ready to push them out if needed.

Frollo didn't let it get that far. He grabbed Esmeralda's hand firmly and began walking to the exit ladder. She made a protest sound, but eventually followed him.

\- We can't leave things like this! - she claimed, as they descended the tower's spiraling staircase.

\- There's nothing else to do. - Frollo replied convinced.

\- But…

\- Esmeralda, stop. - he said, suddenly stopping his descent. Though they were in the darkness of the stairs, she was able to discern the fierce determination on his gaze. - It's over.

* * *

They barely spoke another word during the way home or while they were having lunch.

Each one was sunk deep into their respective thoughts and emotions. Both of them wanted to say something that would help or comfort the other, but there was not much to say. So they took comfort in, at least, being together in the dense silence that surrounded them.

When they were done eating, Esmeralda timidly suggested that they sat in the stone bench on the courtyard, where the afternoon rays of sunlight were still warm enough. Frollo followed her there absently.

\- Are you mad at me? - she finally dared to ask, once they were sitting side by side.

The judge looked at her, confused.

\- Mad at you? - he repeated, frowning.

\- For saying you should tell him the truth… - she clarified, looking down with a sad expression.

\- No. - Frollo stated plainly. - You were right. I'm only mad at myself.

\- You did the right thing. - she immediately defended him, turning to face him better. - Claude, the way you explained it to him… making sure he understood that it hadn't been his fault at all… you were really brave.

Frollo threw her a quick glance, but then shook his head.

\- You were.- she insisted, placing her hand on his thigh. - I'm serious, you had the chance to leave things like that, but you chose to tell the whole truth. I don't think I know anyone that brave.

\- You would have done the same thing. - Frollo replied quietly.

\- I'd like to think I would, but I don't know. I've never been in the position to prove it. And honestly, I hope I never have to find out, because I'm not sure I would rise to the occasion like you did.

\- Thank you. - he said, absently. - But it was pointless. Did you see him? I've never seen anyone so angry before.

\- I think that's a good sign. - Esmeralda replied cautiously.

\- What? - Frollo asked, turning his head at her, unsure he had heard well.

\- Maybe the fact that he was so angry means it wasn't pointless at all.

\- Why would it…? What do you mean? - he inquired, utterly puzzled.

\- Let me tell you a little story. - she began, adjusting her position to face the baffled judge. - Remember the Tupsy Turvy day, when I claimed sanctuary at the cathedral so you wouldn't be able to arrest me?

Frollo's frowning increased.

\- I'm not particularly fond of those memories. - he remarked darkly.

\- I know, but I'm going somewhere with this. - she clarified, nodding. - That day, I followed Quasimodo to his tower and discovered his hidden life. We talked and became friends, and later he helped me escape the vigilance of your soldiers.

\- Aha...- Frollo muttered, uncomfortable.

\- But before he did… we had a conversation, at the rooftop. I was so mad at you, you know, for trapping me in there… But he defended you. - she said, meaningfully.

But Frollo shook his head, not following.

\- He defended the man who that very day had allowed the citizens to mock and basically torture him!

\- I'm really not following you, and this isn't helping.- Frollo stated, gritting his teeth.

\- Claude, do you think that's normal? - she asked him, raising an eyebrow. The judge shook his head again, baffled. - It's not! He should have been so mad at you! But there he was, arguing with me about your kindness. Of course, I didn't know you back then the way I do now, but still… I realized how badly damaged Quasimodo was in that moment. He was so afraid of losing you, the only person he thought could ever love him… that he didn't even allow himself to feel angry about what had just happened! It was so unnatural.

Frollo grunted, beginning to see the point.

\- And later, when you used him to get to the Court of Miracles… how long did it take him to forgive you?

\- He is a kind person. - Frollo said quietly.

\- He is, but that's not the point. He was unable to be truly mad at you.

\- Well, he certainly isn't anymore.

\- That's what I mean! - she said, in a celebratory tone. - Rightful anger is a healthy thing. When you're unable to feel it, it means something's wrong. Remember what I said yesterday?

\- You said many things. - Frollo stated, recalling their intense long conversation at the dungeons.

\- I mean what I said about getting mad at you. That I needed to know that I could get mad at you without it meaning you would do something like that again. - she reminded him.

Frollo adjusted his position again, uncomfortable. He just wished she would stop talking, for all she was saying only made him feel worse. But she kept going.

\- It's the same thing! I knew that as long as I feared that you would do something dramatic, I wouldn't allow myself to get angry. When you fear losing someone so much, it twists all your emotions.

\- What are you saying? - Frollo finally snapped, losing his patience. - That I should be _glad_ that he no longer cares about losing me?

\- It's not that he doesn't care. - she explained, trying to remain calmed. - It's that he's not terrified by it. Because he no longer believes you're the only person in the world that could care about him. Which means it worked. Don't you see? The truth you so bravely told him finally changed that inside of him!

Esmeralda carefully observed Frollo's reaction. He was still frowning, but she could almost hear the pieces of the puzzle clicking inside his mind. Finally, his expression softened.

\- So it wasn't pointless. - he concluded, slightly relieved.

\- Exactly. - she nodded.

However, Frollo's eyes were still filled with sadness. She moved closer to him on the bench.

\- Maybe we can try talking to him again in a few days. - she suggested, trying to give him some hope.

\- You heard him, he doesn't want to see me ever again.

\- Well… that's how he feels now. But maybe he'll listen to me. Maybe he just needs time.

\- Would you do that for me? Speaking on my behalf? - Frollo asked, surprised.

\- Of course I would! - she answered, with a reassuring smile. - I told you, we're in this together.

To her pleasant surprise, Frollo smiled back. He knew that the pain from Quasimodo's rejection wouldn't go away easily, but having her by his side, when just a day before he had believed he had lost her forever, was too good to be ignored.

\- You beautiful, wise woman. - he said admiringly.

She looked at him, with a timid smile as her cheeks reddened. Which only made him want her more. He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

And then his expression shifted completely into one of horror.


	40. The Bridge

The gurgling surface of the cauldron was strangely soothing. Frollo watched the dense bubbles of dark liquid as they formed slowly, to eventually burst when they reached the air.

He was making sure his stash of antidotes was replenished after Esmeralda had forced the entire content of the last bottle down his throat. Not that he was planning on using them anytime soon. But better safe than sorry.

The smell of the detoxifying herbs, though bitter, was also pleasant. To be truthful, he found most medicinal smells pleasant, even if they weren't the most aromatic ones. They had some earthy quality to them, that made him evoke images of forest soils, rich with healing plants and mushrooms.

He considered himself a man of intellect, fond of mental and philosophical activities; however, the medical arts and the collection and preparation of natural remedies were the exception. He deeply enjoyed the down-to-earth disposition both required, and the fact that while practicing any of them, his mind went completely still for a while.

That's what he was trying to accomplish as he absently stirred the boiling mixture, arising from it another surge of foam. And it was working, for he had completely lost track of time until he heard the sound of the door opening violently.

\- There you are! - Esmeralda yelled, sounding irritated but relieved. - What the hell are you doing? - she asked, throwing her hands in the air.

\- Hello. - he greeted her, surprised by her irruption. - I'm just preparing some remedies. - he explained calmly.

Esmeralda looked at him stunned.

\- Do you even know what time is it? It's almost midnight! - she exclaimed.

\- Is it? - Frollo asked, equally surprised. - I didn't even realize the sun had set… the absence of windows, I suppose. - he said, pointing to the stone dungeon walls.

\- Well, it did! A few hours ago! - Esmeralda replied, shaking her head. - You didn't show up at dinner so I decided to bring you something to eat, but you weren't in your chamber… I went up to the library, and when I didn't found you there either I got concerned. Then it occurred to me to get down here… I was worried! - she explained, throwing him a meaningful, accusatory glance.

\- You should know I have used this room many times, and for many other uses before yesterday. - he clarified, and though his face was serious, Esmeralda got the impression that it was meant to be a humorous remark.

\- I know that… - she responded, narrowing her eyes.

\- I can't keep doing this if you're unable to trust me. - he stated, and this time Esmeralda was sure that he was teasing her, using her own words against her in a mocking way.

\- Fine. - she yielded, pretending to be annoyed, but secretly relieved that he was in the mood for jokes.

She walked slowly towards him, still cautious and unsure of how he would react.

\- So… are you feeling any better? - she asked, tentatively.

\- Indeed. - Frollo answered, with a single nod.

\- I'm glad to hear that. - she said with a timid smile, but she noticed that Frollo looked weirdly absent. He wasn't looking at her, but instead, he kept his eyes on the small cauldron. - So… - she began, clearing her throat and trying to get his attention. - do you mind telling me what got into you earlier? Did I say anything that upset you?

\- Oh, no. - Frollo replied, discarding that thought with a hand gesture. - It wasn't you. - he explained. - It was your ring.

\- My ring? - she asked, confused, taking another look at her hand. Her father's silver ring looked apparently normal and perfectly harmless. - What about it?

\- Take a better look at it. - Frollo instructed, turning to look at her. His expression was indecipherable, as his tone became enigmatic. - Right under the sapphire.

Esmeralda frowned, throwing him an inquiring look. He nodded, inviting her to proceed. So she obeyed, taking off the ring so she would be able to look at the inner part, wondering how the judge had been able to see it earlier while she was still wearing it.

\- I don't see anything. - she said, confused.

\- Look closer. - Frollo insisted.

She took a few steps towards the fire, so the light from the flames would help her see better.

\- Here. Is this what you mean? - she asked, narrowing her eyes. - There's something here… carved under the sapphire.

\- What is it?- Frollo inquired, though he already knew the answer.

\- It looks like letters… I'm not sure. Maybe two "_E_"s?

\- It's an_ E_ and an _F_. - the judge corrected her.

\- Yes, that's right. But how did you know? - Esmeralda asked, raising her eyes to look at him, who was nowhere near being able to see the ring from his position.

\- Because I've seen them before. - Frollo revealed, lowering his tone.- The two letters stand for _Elizabeth Frollo_. They are my mother's initials.

It took Esmeralda a while to grasp the implicit meaning of the words he had just pronounced.

Why would her father's ring be inscripted with Frollo's mother's initials? Had they known each other? But that made no sense. The timeline didn't match. By the time Elizabeth had died, her father must have been barely twenty years old. And he had always tell her that he arrived at Paris around that age, so the chances that they had met were very, very slim.

But then… _why did he carved her initials on his ring? _

She looked at Frollo, puzzled. The expression on his face revealed that he was waiting for her to arrive at some obvious conclusion.

She looked down on the ring again. _Maybe Frollo was wrong?_ Maybe the two letters didn't stand for his mother's name, and it was just a weird coincidence?

But it wasn't the fact that he thought the letters were her initials what intrigued her. It was the fact that he had known they were there, even when he hadn't possibly been able to see them when he took her hand earlier. Which meant it wasn't just the letters what he had seen before. It was the ring itself.

With a small gasp, she understood. The ring had been his mother's.

Then, the realizations followed one another, falling upon her like dominoes.

If the ring had belonged to Frollo's mother, that meant it was stolen. It should have never been on her father's hands to begin with.

And the only way it could have ended there if he hadn't met Elizabeth, was if it had been one of the family heirlooms that a desperate child had thrown into a bag of coins intended to buy the only cure for his parent's illness.

The bag that had been taken from him by the force of three gypsy men.

\- Oh my God. - Esmeralda muttered, looking at Frollo horrified. - Oh my God!

\- I see you arrived to the same conclusion as I. - Frollo pointed out darkly.

\- Oh my God. - she kept saying, looking alternately at the judge and the ring, which suddenly felt incandescent in her hand.

\- Fate has a cruel habit of mocking us mortals, doesn't it? - Frollo commented bitterly.

\- God, Claude. - she whispered, shaking her head. - I can't believe this. I'm so sorry!

\- You don't have to be.- Frollo said, calmly. - It wasn't your doing. And you didn't know.

\- Of course I didn't! If I had known he was the one to…

\- I know. - Frollo reassured her.

\- But that doesn't make it right! - she quickly replied. - I can't believe he's gone, and I just found out about this. God, this is so unfair! - she yelled, furious at having lost any chance to confront her adoptive father. - And it's so unfair for you too! I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I don't know how you can even look at me right now. - she said, still shaking her head.

\- Again, none of this is your fault. - Frollo repeated. - He wasn't even your biological father.

\- But doesn't it bother you? - she asked in disbelief at his apparently composed attitude.

\- I've had some time to think about it.- Frollo replied carefully, pointing at the cauldron with a meaningful glance.

Now she could perfectly understand why he had stormed out of the courtyard like that earlier. Considering the circumstances, she was surprised that's all he had done.

\- Well… this belongs to you, then. - she said, walking to him and offering him the ring.- It should have never left your side. At least I'm glad you got it back somehow.

\- Thank you. - Frollo nodded, taking the ring from her trembling fingers. - You're right. It should have never left my family.

\- Yes. - she agreed, though a small part of her heart protested when she let go of the jewel, the only thing she had left from her adoptive father, however mad she was now at him by her recent discovery.

She watched Frollo as he raised the ring to his eyes to observe it carefully. The sapphire caught the reflection of the flames, turning their light to an intense blue, as he turned it slowly in his slender fingers.

He let out a sigh of relief, when he made sure the ring hadn't been damaged during all those years. His sad smile made her glad that she had chosen to return it to its rightful owner. Being able to gift him a memory of his mother back was worth much more than her childish whim.

However, his next move took her by surprised. He offered her the ring back.

\- What are you doing? It's yours. - she said, refusing to take it.

\- Yes, it is. - he agreed, with a smile of satisfaction. - And now I choose to give it to you.

\- I can't take it. I don't deserve to have it. - she protested, shaking her head and taking a step back.

\- I disagree. - Frollo replied calmly.- You deserve it more than anyone.

\- How come? - she asked, baffled.

\- Well… for starters, you've wanted it since you were a little girl, haven't you?

\- Yes, but that doesn't matter now! - she explained convincingly.

\- It matters to me. - Frollo refuted. - But that's not the main reason anyway. Your father wanted you to have it.

\- But it was never his to give! - Esmeralda insisted.

\- No, it wasn't, - Frollo agreed. - But that doesn't mean that his wish to give it to you wasn't genuine. And no one should be denied his last wish.

\- That's really kind of you… - she said, moved. - But still…

\- I'm not done yet. - Frollo interrupted her, lifting a finger to hush her. - If things had been different… If no one had stolen the ring from me in the first place – he said, fighting hard to keep his tone detached and free of resentment or accusation. - I would have kept it as a family heirloom, and cherish it the way I haven't been able to cherish anything from them.

Esmeralda shook her head, feeling sad and guilty about it all. But Frollo kept going.

\- And then, when I met you… I would have been glad that I had something so valuable to give you. You know, the same way you keep that blanket of yours… I have always wished that I had something so precious to me, that I could share with you.

She nodded, deeply moved. He took a step closer, and gave her a warm smile.

\- Now fortune has granted me my wish. I finally got this precious ring back, and nothing makes me happier than giving it to you. - he stated, offering her the ring again.

She took it carefully from his hand and held it on hers, still unable to wear it.

\- Are you sure…? - she asked, hesitantly. - I mean… won't it be hard for you to see your mother's ring on a gypsy?

Frollo pondered her question, secretly amazed at the generosity she was displaying towards his conflicted feelings about her people.

\- But you're not any gypsy, are you? - he said at last. - You're one of a kind. You were born and raised one of them, and still… you said it yourself. You never felt like you fitted among them. You were sensitive to their flaws, though loving to their virtues. And you also said once that you felt like you were made for more… and I believe you've found what you were missing here, with me.

\- I have. - she confirmed, astonished by his words.

\- But I also know that you don't feel quite at home here either. The life inside these stone walls isn't for you. So you don't fit here with me, and you don't fit there with them. Because you're unlike anyone else. You're a bridge.

\- A bridge? - she repeated, confused.

\- Yes. Someone with a foot in both worlds. That's why you don't fit in, but also why you're able to love both sides, to understand both sides. You've managed to make me question my most deeply rooted beliefs… and you're also the reason that Clopin believed me and chose to spare my life against his better instincts. Your adoptive father, the man who assaulted me and who for decades I've hated passionately… and myself, we couldn't be any more different. We're mortal enemies, and yet… we both loved you truthfully. You earned that love, just by being who you are. You're the bridge that connects two impossible ends. He wanted you to have the ring, and I also want you to have it. You united us in wanting the same thing, don't you see the miracle there? - he pointed out with a crooked smile.

Esmeralda was crying silently, her whole heart and soul expanding with gratitude and love.

\- And also, - Frollo added, lightening his tone. - it already has your initials on it.

She frowned, not following.

\- Well, the_ E_ stands for _Esmeralda_, of course. - he clarified. - And you've always said you didn't have a last name. I get the feeling that it bothers you, so I was thinking maybe you could take mine.

Esmeralda raised her eyebrows high with disbelief.

\- Are you serious? - she asked, unsure whether or not he was teasing her again.

\- Well, you seem to have taken everything else from me, gypsy. - Frollo whispered, getting closer. - So you might as well take that too. You were right about the ring belonging in my family. But the thing is, you're my family now too. That's, of course, if you desire so.

Her smile lighted up the whole room.


	41. Soul alchemy (I)

Out of the blue, a splashing sound was shortly followed by a hiss and the room was suddenly dark.

\- The cauldron! - Frollo exclaimed, realizing he had completely forgotten about the boiling mixture, which must have overflowed and fallen upon the burning wood beneath it, soaking it and turning off the fire.

\- What do I do? - Esmeralda asked quickly, amused by the sudden drastic change in their mood.

\- Get a torch, from the hallway! - Frollo instructed, as the splashing continued, and he frantically searched for the handle of the small cauldron.

Esmeralda was not familiarized with the disposition of that room, for she had only been there once before, so in her attempt to reach the door, she bumped into the big table. She heard clinking noises from the bottles and jars that rested upon it, and also a heavy object falling down.

\- Sorry!- she said with a wince, as she felt the edge of the table with her hands to avoid bumping into it twice.

She finally reached the door handle, and opened it, allowing the light from the closest torch to slightly illuminate the room. She grabbed it and turned back.

\- Here. - Frollo indicated, pointing towards a metal hanger in the wall so she could place it there.

He was kneeling beside the fireplace, with the cauldron by his side. The stone floor around him was splattered with liquid.

\- Let me help you clean it up. - Esmeralda offered, ready to get on her knees as well.

\- I've got it. - Frollo refused, stopping her with a hand gesture. He seemed upset, so she figured it was best not to argue.

She watched him get a piece of cloth from a shelf, and begin to soak up the antidote mixture from the floor, as he cursed internally at his lack of attention. Now he would have to prepare another dose of antidote from scratch.

Esmeralda turned around, looking for some candles to light so they could see better. There were a couple across the room, on a high shelf, so she walked over there, almost stepping on a book on her way.

\- Oh, this was it. - she murmured to herself, remembering the falling sound from before.

She bent down to grab it. It was heavier than she had expected, and its covers were thick and looked really old. She placed it carefully on the table again, and couldn't contain her curiosity. Her fingers traced the unknown symbols carved on the garnet cover. She threw Frollo a quick glance, but the man was still focused on his cleaning task, so she resolved to take a peak and carefully opened the book on a random page. She narrowed her eyes and leaned closer, trying to discern the small handwriting. She was able to recognize most of the letters, however the language was foreign. Though, trying to pronounce the words in her mind, it sounded quite similar to what she had heard on mass before.

\- Is this Latin? - she asked, unable to restrain herself.

\- What? - Frollo asked, looking at her over his shoulder, still from the ground.

He finished cleaning the last remnants of liquid from the floor and got up slowly, leaving the wet cloth hanging on the metal bar over the damp fireplace.

He walked towards her, while drying his hands on his robe.

\- What are you doing? - he asked cautiously.

\- I knocked this book from the table and I just picked it up – Esmeralda explained with an innocent smile. - It looks so mysterious… - she said, mesmerized.

\- It is Latin.- Frollo confirmed, attempting to get the book, but she grabbed it first.

\- Wait! - she protested. - What is it about? - she inquired curious.

Frollo seemed suddenly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words.

\- It's complicated. Basically, it's chemistry…- he said, but his restlessness only made Esmeralda more intrigued.

-_ Chemistry_? As in healing mixtures like that? - she asked, pointing towards the cauldron.

\- Well, not exactly… - Frollo answered, looking away.

\- Then what? - she insisted eagerly.

Suddenly, she remembered a conversation they had had long ago, and her intuition kicked in.

\- Is this why people thought you were a sorcerer? - she asked, narrowing her eyes.

The quick nervous glance that Frollo threw her way confirmed her suspicions.

\- So that's why it's here, and not in the library. - she deducted.

Now the book was much more appealing. She looked down at it again, her fingers delicately

turning the pages. Frollo made a small protesting grunt.

\- Tell me about it. - she begged.

Frollo sighed, yielding.

\- Alright... It's an alchemy compendium.

\- A what? - Esmeralda repeated, frowning.

\- Have you ever heard of alchemy? - Frollo asked.

\- No. - she admitted, slightly embarrassed at her evident lack of knowledge in comparison to his.

\- It's a very rare subject. - the judge explained, aware of her insecurity. - That's why it's misinterpreted as sorcery by the common people.

\- What is it? - she asked, curious.

\- Well… it's the science of transformation, so to speak. The knowledge of how to transmute certain elements into another ones. It studies the properties of matter in this universe, what is essential and what is susceptible to change.

Esmeralda was staring at him, completely lost and yet, mesmerized by the look on Frollo's face as he explained this to her. She had never seen him so fascinated about anything, not even his healing techniques or music.

\- Tell me more. - she pleaded.

\- Well… - Frollo began, encouraged by her enthusiasm. - From ancient times, the wisest men have attempted to unveil the mysteries of this universe we live in. It is believed that they found a way to reach the very essence that lies upon its core… and once they did, they were able to use that raw force to act upon the physical world, to change it at will.

\- That sounds like magic. - she pointed out, cautiously.

\- But it's not. - Frollo quickly clarified. - Sorcery is evil. This is just a deep study of the essential nature of God's creation.

\- Alright. - she nodded, though secretly disagreeing. She knew that Frollo had strong prejudices against anything that the church or religion condemned. However, she herself had met a few people in her life, like an old palm reader that used to live in the Court of Miracles, who actually had some sort of magical connection to secret knowledge from past and future. And she knew for a fact that this lady wasn't evil at all. But she didn't feel like getting into a fight right now; she was too interested in what Frollo was saying.

\- Anyway, they were known as alchemists… and it is said that they achieved two great accomplishments. First, they managed to find a way to turn coal into gold.

\- What? That's impossible. - she replied, shaking her head.- Isn't it?

\- Not according to them. - Frollo stated calmly.

\- How do they do it then? - she inquired, skeptical.

\- Well… it's a complex process, influenced by many factors… But, to sum it up, through fire. In alchemy, fire is known to be the most purifying element. It burns away all the impurities so the true golden essence that was contained in the coal all along can emerge.

\- Hmm… - Esmeralda hummed, looking at the flames from the torch. Fire definitely had some magical quality to it, she admitted to herself. She had always been drawn to the flames, a fascination she knew the judge shared. - But doesn't the fire then burn the gold?

\- Not this gold. - Frollo explained.- It the purest form of matter. Even fire can't destroy the purest things in this world.

\- I see. - she murmured, finding comfort in his answer. - You said they achieved two things. What's the second one? - she asked, visibly intrigued.

\- They created an elixir for eternal life. - the judge revealed.

Esmeralda widened her eyes in disbelief. If it had been any other person telling her this, she would have thought that they were trying to trick her, or else, she would have just assumed that they were crazy. But she knew Frollo well enough to be sure that if he considered the possibility of it being true, he did so after a long, meticulous research on the matter, and thorough rational analysis.

\- Have you ever…? - she asked, embarrassed by her own naive question, but curious nevertheless.

\- No. - Frollo replied, lowering his tone. - But I intend to keep trying.

The heaviness in his words revealed her that his search had probably gone on for a long time now. It came as a surprise for her, that he had been so invested in trying to accomplish such strange things.

\- What are you thinking? - Frollo suddenly inquired, scrutinizing her facial expression.

\- Nothing – she responded immediately, her cheeks blushing.

\- Speak. - he ordered, taking a step towards her.

The sudden authority in his tone caught her off guard and for a second, she saw before her the mighty judge Frollo that had terrified her and her people for so long. Only now she was alone with him, in a dungeon, and she was unveiling his deepest secrets. For some reason, this realization turned her on a little.

\- I was just thinking that you don't seem the kind of man that would try so hard to get some gold. - she explained, trying to discard her drifting thoughts.

\- It is not because of the gold. - Frollo clarified, and she could see that he was slightly offended by her assumption. - The elixir, on the other hand, seems more appealing. - he confessed. - However, that's not what I'm after either. I have no interest in remaining in this world forever. - he stated, with a shiver.

\- Then…? - she asked, baffled. - Why are you so interested in alchemy?

\- Well, it's the functioning behind it that intrigues me. - he answered honestly. - All the books and texts I have read seem to have something in common… that there is an unknown, almighty force that surrounds and contains all that exists… and at the same time is found inside every single thing or living being. Does that ring a bell for you?

\- God? - she guessed tentatively.

\- That's what I thought. They don't speak of God Himself, but what else could it be? - he asked, and she shrugged, confused. - That's what I would like to figure out. - he concluded.

\- I see… - she said absently, lowering her gaze to the incomprehensible texts and symbols on the pages.

Suddenly, something caught her attention. Her fingertips traced a circle over one particular drawing. She looked at it closely, and then let out a small chuckle.

\- What is it? - Frollo asked, intrigued.

\- Oh, it's nothing. It's silly. -she shook her head, trying to change the subject.

But the judge threw her an inquiring look, raising an eyebrow, and she smiled nervously.

\- It was just a random thought, I don't want you thinking I'm stupid. - she confessed.

\- Try me. - Frollo suggested with an inviting gesture.

\- Alright... - she yielded. - You see this symbol here? - she said, pointing towards the end of the page.

\- Yes… - Frollo nodded, leaning closer with curiosity. She was referring to a circular drawing divided in two halves, one black and the other white. Each half had another circle inside, of the opposite color.

\- Well, I have no idea of what is it or what it means…

\- It's an oriental symbol. - he couldn't help clarifying. - It comes from ancient Far East philosophies. Forgive me. Go on. - he apologized for his interruption.

\- Nevermind.- she quickly refused, once more embarrassed by her lack of worldly culture.

\- Please. - he begged with a velvety voice that she couldn't resist.

\- Damn it, Claude. - she cursed, yielding once again. - I just thought for a second that it looked like us. I told you it was stupid.

\- Like us? - Frollo repeated, puzzled.

\- Yes… - she said, blushing under his inquiring look.- You see the way this part is all black… with the white circle. And then the other part is all white… with the black circle. Look at me right now. - she said, gesturing towards the simple white linen dress she was wearing. - I'm all dressed in white but I have dark hair and skin… and then you…. - she added, pointing at him. - You're all dressed in black, and you have… lighter skin and hair. - she said, carefully choosing her words so he wouldn't take them as an offense. - So I just thought it was funny the way we resembled the colors. That's it. - she concluded, crossing her arms slightly bothered that she had been forced to say it out loud.

Frollo was trying to keep a straight face, for he was pretty sure that any reaction on his side would make her feel worse. So he avoided eye contact and he looked down on the drawing, pretending to analyze it thoughtfully.

After a few seconds of silence, Esmeralda looked at him, getting more restless by his silence than by any possible response he could have given her.

\- Oh, never mind, just keep telling me your story.- she said, trying to leave the awkwardness behind.

But the judge hushed her with a gesture. He now seemed genuinely focused on something. She watched his face shifting from concentration, to pondering, to true astonishment.

\- What now? - she asked, confused.

\- I think you're right. - Frollo mumbled, still in shock.

\- Okay… - she said, finding the way he seemed to be so impacted by such a silly comparison really strange.

\- I can't believe this! - Frollo exclaimed all of a sudden, grabbing the book, and furiously turning its pages, tracing the words with his finger in a frantic search for something.

Esmeralda knew better than to try to have a conversation with him while he was in that state. He had been visibly plunged into his inner world, and she had probably become invisible. So she walked to the fireplace, to replace the wet trunks with dry ones from a small pile beside it, giving him some space. She changed the trunks and then grabbed the torch to light the fireplace. The flames grew quickly, and soon the room was better illuminated and warmer.

She rubbed her hands next to the heat, and threw Frollo another glance. He was still submerged inside the book, with utter amazement written all over his face. It was really hard for her to contain her eagerness to ask, but she trusted he would tell her when he was ready to communicate.

Eventually, the judge raised his eyes from the pages and stared at her with such intensity it made her shiver.

\- You're a genius. - he said with profound reverence.

\- I am? - she asked, amused and baffled. - How is that?

\- Look. - he said, walking towards her, with the book still open in his hands. - This symbol, you were right. It looks like us. Or rather, we look like it.

\- Aha… - she nodded, not truly following.

\- I told you it's an oriental symbol. - Frollo explained. - It's supposed to represent balance between the two dual forces of the universe. Light and dark, day and night, good and evil… Masculine and feminine, and so on. Together, those forces join as one, they complete each other to form that basic, essential creative force that the alchemists described.

\- Okay. - she nodded again, understanding his explanation but still unsure of where he was headed.

\- I knew that already… - he kept going. - But it always seemed too abstract. I mean… how does it apply to our lives? And then you gave me the answer.

\- I did? - she asked, surprised.

\- Yes, my beautiful gypsy. - he said, euphoric. - This doesn't apply to us… this **_is_** us.- he stated, hitting the symbol with his index finger repeatedly.

Esmeralda shook her head, confused.

\- It's not just the color resemblance, though I have to admit you had a point there. - he said with a crooked smile. - But think of what it represents. You're so full of light, of kindness and compassion and understanding…. Of joy and life. This is you. - he said, pointing to the white half of the circle. - And me… well… You know how my life has been. You know my darkness better than anyone. This is me. - he explained, slowly tracing the remaining black half.

Esmeralda looked at the drawing again, fascinated. Now she was finally grasping the meaning of his words. It all looked crystal clear all of a sudden.

\- And this – she said then, pointing towards the black circle inside the white half. - That is my darkness. The anger and selfishness that I have always tried to hide away from the world. And that – she added, touching the white circle inside the black half. - That is your light. The loving, caring side of you that you hide away from the world. They are both locked there in the deepest part of ourselves… but real and alive.

\- Exactly. - Frollo nodded solemnly, utterly delighted that she had caught up to him so fast. - This symbol is supposed to represent balance. - he repeated. - It tells us that there is a pit of darkness in the brightest of lights, and a beam of light in the thickest darkness. And when both are reunited, they join to become one single, balanced reality.

\- So that means… we were meant to come together? - she asked, fascinated.

\- That's precisely what I think it means. - he confirmed, satisfied. - That would explain why we were attracted to each other in the first place. When we met… I had never seen someone so full of light, of life, and love… I immediately felt like I was in desperate need of you, of that.

\- So… it had nothing to do with my dancing? - she asked, pretending to be disappointed.

\- Oh, the dancing didn't hurt. - Frollo replied with a devilish grin.

Esmeralda threw him a crooked, playful smile. However, the importance of their discovery quickly plunged her back into their conversation.

\- I think you're right. - she said, thoughtful. - As I said that night at the library… it was indeed the darkness I saw in your eyes what made me feel that magnetic pull towards you. Though it was getting to know the light inside which made me love you.

\- And it was witnessing your deepest darkness what made me madly in love with you. - Frollo confessed, lowering his gaze. - It was that night that I understood you would be the only person in this world with whom I could truly risk being myself.

She couldn't hold herself any longer. She walked to him and took the book from his hands, placing it carefully on the table. Then she turned away and threw herself in his arms, kissing him deeply.

Frollo moaned in her mouth with surprise, but immediately responded. She felt a new kind of passion coming from him, as if his whole body was being driven by the euphoria of his newly found knowledge. Her lips curved in a smile, realizing that this unusual man was actually turned on by wisdom. Frollo noticed her smiling and pulled away slightly to look at her. Her eyes were gloaming with desire, and in that moment he felt the most lucky man in the entire universe.

But when he leaned on to resume the kiss, she gasped loudly, and pulled away to look at him in bewilderment.

\- There's something else! - she said, suddenly remembering. - There's something I haven't told you.

\- What? - he asked, intrigued.

\- I just remembered, when you looked at me like that… - she said, walking away and pacing nervously.

\- Tell me – he begged.

\- Okay. But it may sound weird. - she warned him.

\- The last time you said that you unlocked one of the most important revelations of my life.- he encouraged her. - I'm all ears.

\- Alright. - she said, nodding. - Remember our first night together?

\- Hmm…. - Frollo hesitated, unsure of what she meant.

\- Yes, I mean, together. - she confirmed.

\- Well, how could I forget that? - he said, his cheeks slightly reddening.

\- Something weird happened that night. I didn't tell you then, and I hadn't thought about it again until now. But there was this moment… when I looked at you and… it was just so weird, Claude! But your image changed in front of my eyes. - she murmured, trying to find the right words to describe it. - And I can't explain it but I felt as if I was gazing into your essence, way beyond who you are right now in flesh and bone. And… it felt so familiar! As if I had known it forever. As if … - she hesitated for a moment. Frollo was holding his breath.- it was my own. It doesn't make sense, you seemed like a very familiar person but also like myself. And something just fell into place in that moment and I knew we belonged together. - she concluded, her voice hoarse with emotion.

\- How come you never told me this? - Frollo whispered, his voice also strangled.

Esmeralda shrugged, with an apologetic smile.

\- I didn't think you would take it seriously. It doesn't make any sense. - she repeated.

\- But don't you see it does? - he asked, getting excited again.

She shook her head weakly.

\- Look at the fire, for instance. - he said then, pointing to the fireplace. - You just lit it with the fire from the torch. So the original flame divided into two separate fires… that now exist on their own. But at the same time, they come from the same original flame… they are the same fire, just circumstantially split.

\- Yes… - she murmured, beginning to see his point. - So you're saying… we are like those two fires.

\- Precisely. - Frollo nodded with a hand gesture. - Two people that originated from the same original essence. That unified force that was split in two symmetrical halves… dark and light… each one holding a remnant of the other, that inner light and darkness that you pointed out… All along, meant to find each other and reunite to achieve that balance, that unified force again. That's why you felt like I was so familiar, and also yourself at the same time. We are both things at once.

Esmeralda felt like her heart was about to pump out of her chest. But it wasn't because of the romanticism in that explanation. It was because she felt closer than ever to understanding who she was, and what her whole existence meant. Though she couldn't explain why, she knew, deep in her bones with absolute certainty, that everything Frollo was saying was absolutely true.

\- And what would that unified force be? - she asked him, immediately figuring out the answer herself.

\- Love. - they both said at once.

\- But not only towards one another. - she said convincingly. - You made me feel in love with myself. In love with life itself.

\- So did you. - Frollo agreed. - It all makes sense now. - he said, remembering his mother's words once again. - This, us coming together… that was the real plan all along. - he stated, and this time he knew for sure he was right. Their encounter hadn't been some sort of twisted strategy to torture or punish him, or test him in anyway. It had been a divine gift to reunite their essences for a bigger purpose.

He was so overwhelmed with emotion that he didn't noticed Esmeralda coming closer again, until she gently grabbed his arm. He looked at her, staring deeply into her eyes, and he wondered how on earth hadn't he seen from the start that she was the missing piece of his soul. But then he realized he had always known. He just didn't understood what he was feeling. But now he did. And he recognized her as more than just Esmeralda, the gypsy dancer that had turned his life upside down. He also saw her soul, her beautiful, intricate, luminous soul, which was just the other side of his own.

\- I am yours. - he declared, surrendering all the last bits of his control and restraint.

\- You are mine. - she repeated, with a seductive smile, shortening the distance between them. The sound of those words made her feel the most powerful woman to ever live. But there was nothing that she wished more than to share that power with the man in front of her. - And I am yours.

Frollo looked like he was about to spontaneously burst into flames. But before she could surrender herself to the burning desire that awaited her, there was one thing more she wanted to do.

\- I recall you had something for me… - she whispered, throwing him a meaningful look.

Frollo immediately reached into his pocket and slowly took out his mother's ring.

\- For I am yours, and you are mine. - he said, placing the ring on her finger.

\- Forever. - she whispered, sealing their pact with a passionate kiss.


	42. Mine

**A/N: Warning. Rated M for explicit content. Reader discretion advised. ;) **

* * *

Maybe it was because they hadn't been together in a while, since Esmeralda had found out about Frollo's secret.

Maybe it was because, during those days of separation, both had arrived to the conclusion that they would never get another chance of being together again, and so their reunion felt like a gift from the heavens above.

Or maybe, it was the fact that they had just come across the biggest realization of their lives, and pledged themselves to each other.

But something was different. Something had changed between them.

The other times they had been together, there were still some deep, hidden reservations. As if part of them knew there was still something standing between them, something that could break them apart.

But now everything had been laid out in the open. There were no more secrets, no more judgment. No more reservations.

Esmeralda felt liberated herself, but Frollo seemed a completely different man.

He was no longer afraid that she would turn her back on him, for she was there after having stared his worst demons in the face. So he didn't need to worry about giving an image, or acting a certain way. He was free… and it showed.

The way he was kissing her felt new and exciting. When they had been together before, Esmeralda had always been surprised at the amount of passion that his cold, composed figure held on the inside. Whatever lack of experience he had in the matter, he greatly compensated it with his raw, wild eagerness to be with her. It was like nothing she had experienced before, and yet… it paled in comparison to this new energy coming from him right now.

Before, she had felt on charge of the situation, like she held the ultimate power over their interactions. But now, she felt completely taken over by his lust, and she could only choose whether to surrender to it or not. It turned her on insanely.

Esmeralda felt the wall against her back, surprised that she hadn't been aware they were moving towards it. She broke the kiss to look at him, his dark silhouette against the brightness of the flames. The look on his face was also different, as if he knew that the power dynamic had changed and he was loving every second of it. Esmeralda felt her knees trembling and her lower belly pulsating with heat. Frollo pressed her further against the wall, trapping her body between his and the stone. She was able to feel his strong, hard body through his thick robes, specially the hardness between his hips. She gasped, unconsciously pressing herself against it, which drew a grunt from Frollo's chest.

He looked down on her lips, and she opened them slightly, ready to resume the kiss. But instead, he raised his thumb and softly stroked her lower lip, staring deeply into her eyes. She felt defenseless, at his mercy. She knew that there was nothing the judge couldn't do with her right now… and the worst part was, she was pretty sure he knew as well. It was criminal, and delicious.

Esmeralda tried to regain some control by taking him by surprise, and with a fast movement, she trapped Frollo's thumb between her teeth. The judge gasped, caught off guard. This encouraged her to go further, and she began to stroke his finger with the tip of her tongue. Frollo's eyes rolled up when he felt her warm, wet mouth enfolding his thumb, as it brought a series of sensations back from his memory. He couldn't help longing for that feeling somewhere_ else_.

\- Damn it, woman. - he cursed between his clenched jaws.

\- What? - she asked innocently, letting his finger slip out of her mouth, where it laid resting upon her lip. - Do you want me to stop? - she asked, pretending to be concerned.

\- Not in a million years, I don't. - Frollo replied quickly, grabbing her jaw and pulling her towards him.

His teeth captured her lower lip, and just like that, Esmeralda felt a surge of electric current through her whole body, losing all the power she had just managed to regain.

She let out a loud moan, as her legs began to fail, and she threw her arms around Frollo's neck to support her weight. Frollo's hands grasped her waist, once again pressing her against the hard wall so she would have nowhere to fall.

Esmeralda was losing it. She could feel her conscious mind drifting away rapidly, all her instincts taking over.

\- Why don't we go upstairs now? - she begged, longing for the comfort of the bed where she would finally be able to abandon herself to pleasure.

\- No. - Frollo denied, in between thirsty kisses. - Too far. - he murmured.

But he pulled from her arm to separate her from the wall, and he moved towards the big table.

Suddenly, he turned away from her and with an unexpected movement of his arm, he cleared one corner of the table, throwing everything to the ground where it crashed loudly.

\- Claude! - Esmeralda yelled, horrified. - What are you…?

But she couldn't finish her sentence, for he turned to her immediately and with a swift movement, he lifted her from the ground and placed her on the table, sitting in front of him. Due to their height difference, now they were eye to eye.

\- It matters not. - Frollo whispered, with his eyes fixed upon hers like a hungry predator.

So Esmeralda let go. She leaned forward and surrounded the judge's hips with her legs, squeezing her thighs so she could feel him better. Her hands reached for his neck, and her nails traced deep trails on his skin, which drove him absolutely mad.

He growled and pressed himself against her, his right hand traveled all the way up her spine to the back of her head, where his fingers intertwined with her curls, and he softly pulled from them. Esmeralda moaned again in response, which made him pull harder. She gasped, at the verge of pain, but that only turned her on more. She felt her opening drenched and palpitating, surprised at her own level of arousal when he hadn't even touched that area yet.

And he was dying to, but there was another stop in the way there, a favorite of his that he couldn't miss a visit to.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was worth it to stop for a minute to take their clothes off. But the consuming craving for her was too impatient to wait that long. So, with his right hand still locked on her hair, his left hand pulled down the neck of her dress, to expose her cleavage. When she realized what he intended, Esmeralda shivered in anticipation, and her hands grabbed Frollo's neck, inviting him closer.

He traced a path of avid kisses down her neck, her clavicle and finally her breasts.

She closed her eyes, plunged into the cascade of sensations coming from her sensitive skin. Once again she could tell the difference between the other times they had been together and now. Before, Frollo had treated her body like it was a sacred thing, almost like she was made of glass and could shatter under his hands at any given moment. His passionate devotion was beautiful, but also maddening, for she could always feel his restraint, the way he always had a cold, conscious part of himself on, aware of his every move, making sure she knew it was respectful and appropriate.

But now that part seemed to have vanished into the abyss of the infinite trust between them. He no longer needed to prove anything to her, for she knew all there was to know. He could at last, succumb freely to his desires. And she was enjoying every bit of it.

Every stroke of his warm tongue, every suction from his lips, even the soft but tempting bites from his teeth, all the while his fingers running up and down her ribs and spine, creating burning waves thorough her entire skin. It was delicious, and she let her head fall back into his palm, in complete surrender.

She barely noticed his hands moving down, focused as she still was on the sensations his mouth was provoking on her chest. But when she felt the warmth of his skin between her thighs, she opened her eyes and noticed he had rolled up her skirt with one hand, and was keeping his robe up with his elbow.

Esmeralda raised her knees to hold the robes in place, and she pressed them against his waist to invite him closer. Her hands grabbed Frollo's tunic neck, and she pulled him closer to kiss him again.

The breath coming from his mouth was unusually hot, and she could only imagine the burning temperature of the blood in his veins. He drank from her lips, like an oasis in the desert.

Frollo was also feeling the difference between this time and all the others before. It wasn't just himself. She was completely out of control, wriggling inside his arms like a seductive serpent, her hands moving erratically across his skin, unable to decide where to settle, grabbing his shoulders, his arms, his neck, pulling from his head. Realizing he was having that effect on her almost drove him over the edge.

He moved away from her demanding lips, and forced her to look at him, still grabbing her hair from behind.

\- Say it again. - he ordered, hoarsely.

She looked at him through the dense fog in her mind, struggling to regain some clarity. He noticed her confusion and with a very low, velvety voice, he whispered in her ear:

\- Say you're mine.

Esmeralda felt another shiver down her spine. She had always considered herself a free spirit, never truly belonging anywhere, let alone anyone. She looked at other women with secret pity, for they lived completely subject to their husbands, only devoted to their house and children. Even among the gypsies, who were much more loose in their ways, once a woman got married, and they were usually very young when that happened, their lives were reduced to being a proper wife.

That's why she had never desired a husband or any kind of boundaries for her life. She was already the oldest single woman in her community, and not for the lack of trying from her friends and family. But she had promised herself not to ever settle down just to trade her freedom for security.

But this was different. It's not like she was giving up anything. Instead, she felt like she was conquering new territories, new parts of herself, all while realizing that she had never been the isolated being she thought herself to be. She indeed belonged with another human being… she just hadn't found him until now.

So it was a cry of liberation and euphoria to announce it out loud.

\- I am yours. - she said, staring deep into his granite eyes.

Hearing those words sent Frollo definitely over the edge for good. With one single movement, he entered her as deep as her inside allowed.

Esmeralda screamed with surprise, but she felt no pain whatsoever. She was so wet that he just slid right in, though her walls were still tight, so they both felt the strong pressure. Her nails dug deep into his shoulders, as she threw him a warning glance.

\- Too much? - Frollo asked, and though he seemed concerned, his tone also implied certain teasing mockery.

Esmeralda snorted, offended, and with a dark grin, she pulled him closer and whispered over his lips:

\- Oh, I'll show you what too much looks like!

Then she began moving her hips back and forth, riding his hard manhood like she was swaying on a horse saddle.

Frollo gasped at the sudden intensity of his pleasure, it was almost too much for him to bear, but just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, she would slow down, give him a couple seconds to catch his breath, and resume her rhythm again. It was as if the gypsy could read his mind and knew perfectly when and how to move just to keep him on edge all the time. His whole body was shaking.

He grabbed her wrists, in an attempt to stop the overwhelming madness that was rushing over him like ocean waves.

\- Too much? - Esmeralda asked with a triumphant smile.

The anger of his wounded pride took over his trembling body. He threw her a dark menacing look, and he pushed her back, laying her back on the table's surface. She looked at him indignated, but her wrists were trapped in his iron grip, so she was unable to resist. Her head hit the table, and she felt Frollo's other hand readjusting her hip, moving it closer to the edge of the table so he could get better access.

\- You traitor. - she accused him, biting her lip.

\- I thought… - he said, pushing himself inside of her again – that you needed...- he moved away slowly, intercalating his words in between his movements in and out. - a reminder… of who's in charge here.

The new posture allowed him to go even deeper, and she could feel his throbbing member hitting her cervix. She wanted to reply with a protest, but when she opened her mouth, only loud moans emerged from it.

\- That's more like it. - Frollo approved, with a smug grin.

Esmeralda threw him a killing glance, but whenever she inhaled to try to say something, he would charge forward, ripping the air from her lungs in strangled pleasure screams.

The burning hate she was feeling towards her tormentor was paralleled by an overwhelming desire to give herself to him, to allow him the satisfaction of her surrender, granting him control over her entire body and soul. Those two forces fought a brutal battle inside her, a battle whose ferocity increased with every thrust from the judge, until she felt his movements and sounds become less controlled and more animalistic, and it pushed her over the brink of sanity.

She felt the upcoming wave of tingling, electric pleasure drawing near. Frollo's grip on her wrists was weakening, for all his strength was now focused on keeping up the pace of his thrusts. So Esmeralda managed to release her hands from his, and she grabbed his face, pulling him hard over her, demanding his mouth.

He obliged, placing both hands on each side of her head, and leaning forward to kiss her deeply. She sucked on his tongue avidly and a low groan reverberated on his chest.

Frollo moved his hip away, for he knew the ending was extremely close. He hadn't told her this, but he had been paying attention to her body signs to figure out her cycle, for he knew enough about the human body to understand that there were certain risks in allowing his seed to spill freely inside of her during some days. Risks that they hadn't discussed, and that he suspected neither of them was particularly eager to take.

\- What are you doing? - she protested, feeling the sudden change of rhythm. She was also so close to reaching her climax, and wasn't ready to give that up.

\- Being careful… - he explained short of breath, while leaning forward to resume their kiss.

But the gypsy sunk her heels into his lower back, pressing him back inside again.

\- Don't. - she ordered firmly. - You are mine. - she stated, and her voice turned into a moan when she felt him hitting her deepest wall again. - I want what is mine. Give it to me. - she demanded.

The authority in her voice was what finally got him.

\- You'll be the end of me, woman. - he grunted, but he allowed his primal instincts to take full control of his body, raising the frequency of his pounding until he felt the familiar, exquisite spasms coming from his core, and with a final scream of release, he joined her at the summit of ecstasy.

Whatever happened later, it would be tomorrow's problem.

Now, she was all that mattered to him.

And she was satisfied.


	43. The Summon

** SOUL ALCHEMY. PART 3. **

(Chapter 43 ; The Summon)

\- Your Honor! - a weak, scratchy voice called.

Judge Frollo turned around impatiently. The daily hearing for the common people of Paris had run longer than he expected, and he was eager to get to the dining room already. Also, it was a Wednesday, the day he usually had lunch with Quasimodo. After years of doing so, this was the first Wednesday that he would miss their appointment, not for work or health reasons, but because he was no longer welcomed there. Since he had realized that, upon waking up that morning, he had been feeling a heavy weight on his stomach, and couldn't wait to meet Esmeralda and light up his mood a little.

But when Frollo saw who was calling him, his expression softened a little. It was an old woman whose case he had just solved. Her husband had died all of a sudden, leaving her with almost nothing. However, there were two brothers to whom he had lent some money in the past, and they hadn't paid him back by the time of his death, and now they refused to pay his widow. Frollo had made sure the debt was repaid, and scolded the two men for their lack of honor. He had also decreed that they should provide at least one hot meal a week for the old widow, given how much time they had taken to pay back the money. The brothers had agreed to it, glad that they weren't forced to pay any interests. A hot meal a week was nothing in comparison, but it guaranteed that the widow was attended regularly.

\- What is the matter? - he asked gently, as the old woman approached him slowly.

\- I wanted to thank you. - the woman said, in a low, tired tone.

\- I'm just fulfilling my duty, madame. - Frollo replied with a single nod, preparing to leave.

\- It was more than that. - she refuted, shaking her head softly.

Frollo looked at her again, intrigued. It was rare to commoners to approach him like that, with such confidence, and let alone talk back to him.

\- I didn't think you would even listen to an old widow's case like mine. My best hopes were that you would get them to repay my husband's loan. But you also made sure that I don't starve to death, which was none of your business.

Frollo was speechless, not sure what the woman wanted from him, or what she was trying to prove. He felt shocked at the colloquial language she was using, though her tone was respectful.

The woman raised her head to look him in the eye. Her curved spine made the height difference between them even bigger. She scrutinized his face, as if she was evaluating whether she should say her next words or not. Frollo felt stupid when he realized he was holding his breath, nervous, as if he was passing some kind of test. Finally, the woman spoke again.

\- I had never seen you before, not like this. - she explained, lowering her tone as if she was making a confession. - I saw you in mass, and sometimes on the streets… but this is my first time near the palace. I don't go out much, you see. - she clarified. - But my husband used to say you were the cruelest man in Paris. He was terrified of you, and so was I, for I trusted his word.

Frollo felt his throat tightening in an uncomfortable knot of embarrassment.

\- He was friends with the miller too.- she continued, narrowing her eyes as she noticed his discomfort. The judge stiffened. He wasn't used to being the one judged, and he for sure wasn't liking any of it. - When you burned the mill he comanded me to stay clear of any gypsies, so we would never have to deal with you.

\- I really should get going. - Frollo interrupted her, anxious to get out of her reach.

But the woman continued as if she hadn't heard him.

\- So you can imagine my dread when I decided to come in today to present my case. My fear was only overcome by my desperation.

\- Well, it is solved now, so you can go home reassured. - Frollo nodded again, with a tense smile, dying to end the conversation already.

\- You proved my Gellert wrong. - the woman said then, reaching for Frollo's arm and grabbing his wrist firmly. The man flinched at her sudden contact, and stared at her astonished. - I don't know many things, but I know this. What I saw today was definitely not a cruel man. It was kindness. Gellert was a smart man, God bless him, but he was wrong about you. And today, I am grateful for that. - she stated, patting Frollo's wrist warmly.

The judge stood still as the woman slowly walked away. The repetitive sound of her cane reverberated on the empty Palace hall, as her crooked silhouette moved towards the open door. When the guards closed the door behind her, and the hall was once again dark, Frollo remained on his spot, blinking stunned.

\- I'm starving, you know? - Esmeralda's voice broke the silence, as she emerged from the dining room door, where she had been waiting for him for a while now.

However, she immediately noticed the awkwardness in Frollo's face.

\- Did you see a ghost? - she asked jokingly.

\- Sort of. - Frollo murmured, getting out of his trance.

\- What happened? - Esmeralda asked, intrigued.

\- Hmm... I'm not sure. This woman just came and… - his sentence was interrupted by a knock on the door. Frollo turned towards it, wondering if the old lady had forgotten to say something else.

But when the guards opened the door, the silhouette standing in the light was a different one.

\- Good afternoon, Minister. - a young man greeted him with a small bow.

\- Good afternoon. - Frollo responded, puzzled by the sequence of unexpected events.

\- I come in behalf of Our Majesty, the King. I'm here to deliver a message.

\- What is it? - the judge asked cautiously.

\- He is requesting your honor's presence at his royal palace on Sunday.

\- What? - Frollo exclaimed with disbelief. - Sunday? That's five days from now. I would have to leave immediately to get there on time.

\- That's what Our Majesty expected you to do. - the messenger confirmed.

\- Did he say why? Is there any urgent matter he needs my assistance with?

\- He didn't say, your honor. - the man replied calmly. - He just wanted to make sure you would accept his invitation.

\- Sounds more like a _summoning_ to me. - Frollo protested, frowning.

The messenger remained silent, as he had already delivered all his information.

\- Alright - Frollo yielded reluctantly, visibly annoyed.- I will get my things ready and leave with you after lunch.

\- No, sir. I must continue my journey north. There are more messages I'm expected to deliver. - the messenger replied, and with another bow, he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

\- What's going on? - Esmeralda inquired, reminding Frollo of her presence behind him.

\- I don't know. - the judge responded, concerned. - Usually the King's invitations come with a much wider margin to prepare a journey there. He knows I can't just leave my position without further notice.

\- Maybe it's urgent, as you said. - she tried to soothe his worry. - That doesn't mean it's bad news. Maybe you're the only one he trusts to help him. You told me he had a great esteem for you, right?

\- Right. At least, he did. - Frollo pointed out, darkly.

\- What do you mean?

\- I'm sensing Lefebvre's hand in all this. - he confessed.

\- Lefebvre. - Esmeralda repeated, frowning as well. She had forgotten all about the emissary ever since he had left Paris. She had had much more important things to think about for the past two weeks. - Well, he's got nothing on you, remember? We convinced him pretty well.

\- Did we? - Frollo replied, as he felt a growing anxiety in his stomach.

\- Yes! And I'm sure we'll convince the king as well. - Esmeralda reassured him.

\- We? - the judge repeated, surprised.

\- Well… of course! I'm coming with you. Isn't it obvious? - she said, slightly irritated.

\- But that's not… I mean… You can't! - Frollo mumbled, shaking his head.

\- Why the hell not? - Esmeralda protested.

\- Why the hell not, is one of the reasons. - he repeated, throwing her a meaningful look.

\- Come on, we've been through this. I will behave in perfect politeness, your honor. - she replied, with a mocking bow.

\- It's not the only reason. - Frollo said, ignoring her teasing. - The palace is five days away by horse. If you were to come, we would need the carriage and that would slow us down.

\- Then, I'll ride a horse too. - she resolved without second thought.

\- You can't ride a horse. - Frollo pointed out, lifting his eyebrows.

\- I can learn. - she stated, crossing her arms.

\- Not in an hour. - the judge replied with a sigh of exasperation.

\- Fine! Then I'll ride with you. I bet Snowball can take us both. - she said, purposefully stinging Frollo's ego about his powerful animal.

\- Of course he can. - Frollo took the bait. - But are you sure you're willing to share a ride for so many hours, for five days? It's not a comfortable armchair, you know? - he asked her skeptically.

\- Hmm… - Esmeralda hummed, thoughtful.

Then, without previous notice, she grabbed his hands and pulled from him, turning around so her back would be against his chest. She wrapped herself in his arms, placing his hands on her waist, and mischievously pressing her bottom against his hips. Frollo gasped loudly at her sudden proximity.

\- Hmm… -she hummed again, laying her head back, exposing her neck and cleavage to his eyes above. - Yes, you're right, maybe it wouldn't be comfortable for you, having to hold me like this for hours… - she teased him with a devilish grin.

Frollo mumbled inaudibly, all his attention suddenly focused on her curves.

Esmeralda laughed, and she moved away from him to face him again.

\- I don't mind how uncomfortable it gets, Claude! I've lived in the streets for God's sake. I'm coming with you. - she changed her tone to a more serious, firm one. - Also, if you're right and this is Lefebvre's doing, wouldn't it look suspicious if you left your diplomatic agent behind? If I come, it will give us a better chance to convince the King that we're working together.

\- Hmm… I suppose you're right. - Frollo agreed, still struggling to concentrate after the sudden wave of heat that she had awakened within him.

\- So that's it! - she celebrated happily, before he could regret his words. - Let's eat something and be on our way.

They ate quickly, pondering out loud what the King could want from Frollo. The judge was pessimistic by nature, but Esmeralda kept throwing optimism his way. She was excited by the journey, for it was her first real chance at seeing the world, which she had always wanted to do. Also, the emissary's depictions of the Royal palace and its gatherings had fascinated her, and she was eager to see them with her own eyes.

\- We'll take two horses. - Frollo announced, finishing his glass of wine.

\- But you said it yourself, I can't… - Esmeralda hesitated, feeling embarrassed.

\- Maybe I can teach you on the way. It's not so hard, you know? You will only be riding it, no extra skills needed.

\- But what if I fall? - she asked fearful.

\- I won't let that happen. We'll take my best mare, she's very meek. I'm sure she will like you.

\- Alright. - she agreed at last, though she was still restless about it.

\- Gather your things, and meet me at the courtyard. - Frollo instructed.

\- What should I bring? - Esmeralda asked, suddenly worried. - How long will we be there?

\- I don't know. - Frollo answered, absently. - This is all so sudden, I have no clue for how long the King will request our presence. But don't take much. We'll carry it on the other horse while you're not riding it.

Esmeralda nodded, and rushed upstairs to prepare her things.

Meanwhile, Frollo instructed his captain of the guard, who had already filled in for him successfully when he had been sick, to take care of his urgent business until he returned.

As he gathered his most solemn robes from his chamber, he found himself feeling glad that he had gotten to hear the old widow's case before leaving, so she could be tended during his absence. This foreign thought surprised him, for he usually forgot the commoners issues as soon as he got out of the court room. But her warm, grateful words had left an impact on him. This had been the first time in all his career in which someone had thanked him from the heart, and not because of fear or due respect. For a moment, it had reminded him of why he had been interested in being a judge in the first place. To be able to make a difference, to bring rightful justice to people's lives.

He felt as if life was giving him a second chance. Now that his worst sins had been let out in the open, maybe he could begin to leave his past behind, and focus towards a better future, with Esmeralda by his side. That perspective was certainly pleasant. This matter with the King now was the only thing that stood in his way between that past and future. But once they came back, whenever that was, he would resume his duties and he would try to reconnect with the people in his city. Who knows, maybe the old widow had been the first of many to change their minds about him.

_If only fate wasn't about to rip that chance from his hands forever._

* * *

**A/N: Thus beginning the third and last part of this story... ;) Originally, I never intended it to be so long hahah But I just got deep into it, and now I feel it deserves a proper ending. **

**I once again want to thank you for your reviews, they are very encouraging! Feel free to keep them coming, I will appreciate it! And I hope you enjoy reading this last part at least half of what I'm enjoying writing it ;P Thank you! :) **


	44. The Trip

\- What do you mean _sideways_? - Esmeralda asked him, raising an eyebrow with her arms crossed.

\- That's the only way women are allowed to ride a horse. - Frollo explained patiently, though he was getting anxious as the minutes went by. He knew better than to show up late to the King's summoning.

\- Well, that's absurd!- Esmeralda exclaimed, taking another look at the brown mare standing right beside her. She wasn't as tall as Frollo's horse, but still, her rump was above her eyes. It was frightening enough to think she needed to get up there, let alone if she was forced to do it in such a ridiculous, helpless position.

She looked at the judge again, shaking her head with fierce determination.

Frollo was already mounted on his black horse, and their scarce luggage was properly tied to the animals. They were all set to go, except from the fact that Esmeralda wasn't willing to get on her horse.

\- That's why I said you shouldn't come. - Frollo explained cautiously, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Esmeralda snorted, irritated.

\- So you want to leave me behind for some stupid rule made by who knows who? Are you serious?

\- I'm not saying…

\- It sounds like that! - she interrupted him, throwing her arms above her head and pacing nervously.

\- Okay… - Frollo said, trying to pacify the increasingly tense atmosphere. - Why don't you get on my horse? I'll hold you, and you can just hold the reins for the mare to bring her along… And we'll figure the rest later.

\- No. - Esmeralda refused. She took another look at the brown horse and inhaled sharply. - I'm getting on. The normal way. If anyone has any problem with it, it's none of my business.

\- Esmeralda, please… - the judge begged, and his voice sounded suddenly exhausted.

She threw him an angry glance, but her expression softened as she watched Frollo's. The man looked deeply concerned, the wrinkles on his forehead more pronounced than they had been in a long while. She realized that he was truly worried about the situation with the king, and that he didn't want to do anything to worsen it further.

\- Okay, listen. - she said, with a conciliatory tone. - I'll ride with you until we're out of Paris, alright? But once we're on the way, and no one is around, I will try to do it my way. If we go by any villages, we will switch again. No one will see, except maybe some shepherds but I guarantee you they won't give a damn.

Frollo considered his options for a second. Though he was still concerned, he realized this was his better chance to get going already.

\- Fine. - he yielded. - Come here.- he said, offering his hand to help her.

But before getting up, Esmeralda walked towards Snowball's head, and she looked him right in the eye.

\- You better behave well. - she threatened him with a menacing whisper.

The horse blinked slowly and then whined loudly, as if he was expressing his agreement. Esmeralda laughed and kissed the animal's forehead.

\- Alright, I'm ready now. - she announced, and she took Frollo's hand.

He pulled hard from her, and she was once again surprised at his strength. The loose clothes and his tired expression always made her forget the actual vigor the judge possessed, though he made sure to remind her whenever they were alone in private.

The grip of his hands on her waist gave her a tingling sensation. Maybe riding with him wasn't such a bad idea after all, she thought to herself, and threw him a crooked smile.

He returned her smile weakly, before giving his horse the order to start moving.

* * *

Esmeralda was excited. Though she had left Paris in a couple occasions, she had never gotten far, and she was always with her adoptive family, going on foot or with the caravan.

So this was all new to her, and the perspective of going to the King's palace as a guest was something she could have never imagined in her wildest dreams.

As they rode along the dusty, rural trail, she realized she was also joyful about the fact that, for a few days until they arrived there, she and Claude would be alone. At the palace of justice there was always someone around or close, were it servants, soldiers or the citizens themselves, and though they were well aware of the rumors circulating about them, they still made an effort to be very discreet. But now it was just the two of them, and it no longer felt like they were the mighty judge and the gypsy dancer, but just Claude and Esmeralda. She loved the freedom implicit in that, and she turned her head to make the most out of it.

The kiss brought Frollo back from the depths of his mind.

\- Hmm – he moaned softly. - What's that for?

\- Just because. - Esmeralda replied with a wink.

Frollo's poor attempt of a smile was enough to make her realize he wasn't feeling the same way.

\- It's all going to be okay, you know? - she tried to reassure him.

\- Yes, of course.- he replied calmly, but his eyes were absent again.

She decided not to push it. She also decided not to bring up the horse subject again, at least not that day. The atmosphere was tense enough for her to insist in a delicate matter. So she resolved to ride with him in silence, giving him some space to calm down his thoughts.

But the thing was, Frollo's mind was completely blank. It's as if somehow it had gone into shock, and it didn't make any sense. Yes, the king's urgent summoning didn't sound very well, and after the emissary's visit, Frollo was concerned about what Lefebvre might have said about him… about them.

But there was no point in trying to guess, for he had no new information than when the emissary had left. Which meant he couldn't prepare any suitable defense for himself, if needed.

Frollo was a very practical man, in terms of his mental resources. If there was a problem, or something worrying him, he would spend whatever amount of time necessary pondering and considering his options, strategizing and planning every detail.

But when he knew nothing could be done, he wouldn't waste a minute of his time going over the subject again. And this was one of those times. Until they got to the palace and he finally learned what this was all about, there was no point in thinking about it.

However, this wasn't the reason his mind was blank, for it wasn't a calmed, relaxed blank. It felt as if he had been blindfolded, unable to see something obvious that was in front of him. His paralyzed thoughts were standing in the way of his screaming intuition that something was, or was about to be, very wrong. It didn't make any sense, yet it felt alarmingly real.

Before he realized, the silhouette of a farm over a hill appeared at the horizon. He grunted lowly.

\- Did you say something? - Esmeralda turned around to look at him.

\- No. I seemed to recall wrong, that's all.

She threw him an inquiring glance.

\- That farm over there, that's where we should be staying tonight. - he explained, pointing at the small house.

\- Already? - she asked, surprised. - The sun hasn't set yet. I thought we would ride longer today.

\- So did I. - Frollo confirmed, frowning. - I thought the farm was further along the way. But the next one is too far away, I'm afraid. I don't want to ride in the dark.

\- Well… we can stop there and leave very early in the morning.

\- We have no choice.

Esmeralda pressed her lips together, annoyed at the inconvenient. It didn't bother her that they had to ride more or less, or how much did they sleep, but the fact that Frollo was concerned enough without any additional setbacks. Maybe she was not fully grasping the meaning of what was going on? Maybe she wasn't aware of the consequences that they could face if they showed up late or dissapointed the king in any way? A pinch of sudden fear stung her belly, but she shook her head trying to vanish the feeling. She trusted Frollo would know what to do.

She only hoped that there would be no more incidents along the way.

* * *

\- Please, stop! - Esmeralda begged, irritated.

Frollo was surprised at the annoyance in her tone, for she had been silent for the last two hours, and before that, she had barely said a word since they left the farm before sunrise.

\- What's wrong? - he asked, alarmed.

\- Just stop! - she repeated, jumping down of the horse as soon as the judge obeyed her command.

He watched her, confused, as she brushed off her clothes and tried to cool herself using her hands as fans.

\- I'm sorry, but I can't. - she blurted out, shaking her head.

\- You can't what? - Frollo repeated, puzzled.

\- Aren't you suffocating in those robes? - she asked with disbelief, staring at the judge's traveling attire, which was thinner than his regular clothes, but still dense and dark.

\- It is hot, but I'm fine. - he stated.

\- Well, I am not fine. - she replied. - We've been riding for hours under the sun, and I'm melting between its heat and yours and Snowball's. I'm going to ride the mare. - she announced.

Frollo had secretly hoped that she had given up on the idea of riding her own horse, which would probably slow them down. But his disappointment was overtaken by the appreciation that she had been struggling in silence so she wouldn't bother him. He also felt slightly guilty about that, so he immediately replied:

\- Of course, let me help.

He gracefully got down the horse himself, which Snowball interpreted as a resting break, neighing happily.

\- Which side do you prefer? - he asked her helpfully.

\- No sides, Claude. - she answered, quietly but firmly. - I'm not going to risk falling down for some stupid rule. There's literally no one here but you and me.

Frollo frowned, looking away and trying to maintain a calm breathing.

\- Can't you see it's stupid? - she pleaded, trying to reason with him.

\- It is not. - he refuted. - Will you explain how do you plan to spread your legs while wearing that long skirt?

\- I'll roll it up. - she said, as if stating the obvious.

\- And you don't think that's inappropriate? - he replied, with a scolding tone.

\- Yeah, right, God forbid the cattle get scandalized!

Frollo snorted, irritated at her sarcasm. He knew gypsies were much more loose about moral rules and decency than the catholic people, but even so, their women were never seen in public without a long skirt to cover their legs. Why had he fallen in love with the rebel among the rebels?

\- Look, this is very simple. - she began, staring at him with her arms crossed. - I'm not getting back on that horse with you. And I'm not riding sideways. So either you open your damn mind or we're gonna lose more time when we should be moving ahead.

Frollo threw her a flaring glance, furious at her ultimatum. But at this point he knew her well enough to know she wasn't going to yield with this. So with an exasperated blow, he adjusted the saddle on the brown mare, repositioning the luggage they had placed on it while it was empty, and finally he offered Esmeralda his hand to help her get on.

\- Thank you. - she said, though her tone was still acid.

It was a very weird feeling, sitting over an animal's back like that. The leather from the saddle was heated because of the sun, and it felt almost painful on the skin of her bare legs, but she wasn't going to protest. The feeling of the slight breeze on her skin was enough to relieve the heat.

\- Here, hold the reins. - Frollo indicated, handing them to her. - She will follow Snowball so you won't have to do much. Just pull from them if she starts going the wrong way or too fast.

\- Alright… - Esmeralda nodded, trying to hide her fear.

\- Alright. - he repeated. - We'll start slow so you can get used to it, but we'll have to speed up the pace if we want to make it on time, do you understand?

\- I understand. - she replied, irritated at his condescending tone.

\- Fine, then. - he said, turning to get back on the black horse's saddle.

\- Wait! - she called. - What's her name? - Frollo looked at her with an indecipherable expression. - What? She's carrying me on her back, the least I can do is learn her name. - Esmeralda defended herself.

\- I actually don't remember. - Frollo confessed.

\- What? You don't know the name of your own mare?

\- I almost never ride her. - he justified himself. - And Patrice is the one that knows every horse in the stables well.

\- Right. - she nodded, hiding her judgment. - Alright, well, that means I get to name you! - she said happily, leaning to stroke the mare's hair.

Frollo was about to tell her that it was useless to give the horse a new name because she wouldn't recognize it or respond to it, but he decided not to say anything and just let the woman do her thing.

\- Hmm… I think I'll call you _Freedom_. - Esmeralda stated with pride.

Frollo gritted his teeth at the obvious taunt but without further saying, he climbed up to his horse and resumed their journey.

* * *

It turned out Esmeralda was a natural.

She had only been riding alone for a day now, and yet, she looked absolutely comfortable on Freedom's back, sometimes even getting ahead of Frollo for a while without fear of the mare going rogue.

Frollo would never admit it out loud, but he was pissed. Granted, he was glad that she was able to ride well on her own, for that meant they could move faster. But he was also annoyed that she had gotten her way so easily, and that it was actually going so well. He despised himself for such low thoughts, but he couldn't help it. The tiredness, the heat, the worry, and above all, the smug grin on her face, didn't help at all.

He was suddenly feeling as if they had gone back to the power game phase, which he thought had been left way behind. And it bothered him greatly. But he wasn't going to be the first one to say anything about it, and apparently, Esmeralda was perfectly happy this way.

For the past couple of nights, she had kissed him goodnight and fallen asleep almost immediately. He was exhausted himself, after the whole day riding, but he was slightly upset that she showed no sign of desire for more physical intimacy than that. This also made him feel like they had gone back to the early stages of their relationship, where every movement was calculated and held a hidden meaning. He didn't want to think this way about her anymore, he wanted to trust her as she had repeatedly asked him to do… but the insecurity was creeping back in, slowly but certainly.

\- How far along are we? - Esmeralda asked at one point, breaking the silence.

\- Well, it's Friday evening. We should be getting there on Sunday.

\- That means we're good, right? - she inquired.

\- If we keep this pace, yes. - Frollo confirmed. - Why do you ask?

\- I'm just tired. - she said, with a yawn. - I'm all sweaty and sore.

\- Well, that's what a horse trip is. - Frollo stated, trying to sting her inflated bubble of smugness. - I warned you.

\- I wasn't complaining. - Esmeralda clarified quickly. - I just wanted to know we're right on schedule.

Frollo didn't reply, and after that the silence was restored.

The sun was near the horizon when Esmeralda pulled from the mare's reins.

\- Do you hear that? - she asked Frollo, lowering her tone.

\- What? - the judge said, also stopping his horse.

Esmeralda tilted her head, looking towards a row of trees near the trail.

\- There… I think there is a stream.

\- Hmm.. it is likely. - he agreed, recognizing the subtle sound of running water among the trees.

\- Oh, good! - she exclaimed, getting ready to descend from the horse.

\- What are you doing? - Frollo asked alarmed.

\- I'm going for a bath! - she explained, as if it was obvious.

\- What? Now? Here? - Frollo was startled.

\- Of course! I'm dying for some fresh water! - she said, reaching the ground and adjusting her clothes. - Come on! - she rushed him.

\- I don't think this is a good idea. - he shook his head. - Look, the inn is right there on that small valley ahead. We'll be there in fifteen minutes. I'm sure you can take a bath there.

\- Not like this one. - she refuted. - I want to be able to stretch.

\- Please, Esmeralda. - Frollo begged. - There are bandits on this roads, it's not safe.

\- Oh, come on! - Esmeralda snapped, raising her tone with her eyes suddenly flaring. - What is wrong with you? Why does everything have to be a problem? Can't you just let me be?

Frollo was shocked at her sudden outburst, though he could tell it had been building up inside her for a while now. A hundred hurtful replies came to his mind, but he didn't want to worsen things.

\- I'm just trying to keep you safe. - he said instead, visibly hurt.

\- Well, give it a break, it'll be fine. - she replied, softening her tone. - Let's go to the water.

\- I'm not going into the water. - Frollo stated, sitting straight on his horse. The mere thought of getting rid of his clothes in the middle of nowhere, at the mercy of whoever went by in that moment, was absolutely ridiculous.

Esmeralda blew exasperated.

\- You would enjoy life much more if you weren't always so rigid, you know? - she stated, beginning to walk towards the trees.

\- Are you really going to…?

\- I am. Why don't you go ahead to the inn, if it's fifteen minutes away? I'll catch up with you.

\- I'm not leaving you alone. - Frollo protested.

\- I could use some alone time. - she replied, bitterly.

He was hurt by her words and her tone, and also mad that everything seemed to be going so wrong since they had left Paris. He didn't want to fight, so he turned around and incited his horse forward.

He would wait at the curve, where the trees would hide his presence, until he saw her returning to the mare safe and sound, and then he would go ahead so she wouldn't know he had been waiting for her.

A few minutes later, her figure reappeared among the trees. Her hair was dripping, and her clothes lingered to her soaked skin, highlighting her every curve. Frollo hated to admit it, but for a second he forgot all about their fight, and the king, and the bandits, and all he could think about was going to her and taking her right there and then. But if she hadn't shown any signs of desire so far, he wasn't going to be the first.

So he rushed his horse, to get well ahead of her as she got ready to climb her mare again.

Freedom seemed restless when she felt her wetness dripping all over her back.

\- It's alright. - Esmeralda soothed her, gently stroking her hair. - You're probably hot too, after this whole day of carrying me. This will help cool you. - she affirmed, as she rolled her skirt up to readjust her position properly.

For a moment, she thought of how she must look, for anyone who passed by. Her hair worn loose and soaked, her colorful clothes rolled up, her bare legs in plain sight… She understood what Frollo meant by inappropriate; anyone who saw her right now would arrive to the conclusion that she was a sinful gypsy, a temptress. Well, that's their problem, she thought to herself, though internally she prayed not to run into anyone until she reached the inn.

However, her prayers weren't going to be granted. She tried to lower the fabric of her skirt to cover at least her knees as she watched the silhouette of some people in front of her, down the trail. The sun had just set, so there was still daylight left, but not enough to see clearly. She slowed down Freedom, as one of her hands left the reins to search in one of the bags at her back, trying to find her dagger just in case. She hated to admit that Frollo had gotten inside her head, and now she was finding herself distrustful and afraid.

But her fears dissipated as she recognized the judge in the taller silhouette, standing over his massive horse. Now that she had realized it was him, she wondered how she could have missed it. There weren't many horses as big as that one, nor many men as tall and elegant in posture as him. She was genuinely happy to see him, forgetting for a moment about all the tension between them.

Esmeralda rushed the mare to get to him, wondering who the people around his horse could be. There seemed to be three of them, and from the distant sound of their voices, they ought to be men.

As she got closer, something felt off. Frollo looked stiff, and once they noticed her coming, the men began to lower their voices, and they moved closer to the judge, restless. Suddenly, her inner alarm turned on. She rushed her horse even more, though she was afraid of falling. The sound of the hooves in the dusty gravel made Frollo turn his head around, but he didn't seem happy to see her, which confirmed her suspicions. The silent warning in his eyes did the rest.

\- Good evening! - she greeted, apparently cheerful. - Thanks for waiting for me, love! - she threw Frollo a warm smile.

The men looked up at her from the ground. They seemed utterly confused by her sudden appearance, riding a horse like a man and still soaked from the river. It only took her a glance at their clothes and golden earrings to recognize them as gypsies.

\- How is your day going, brothers? - she asked them, pretending not to notice the knife one of them was hiding on his hand and sleeve.

The bandits looked at each other, hesitant. Though the strange couple had horses, they still outnumbered them. Also, they didn't seem to be armed. And by the looks of the tall man's clothes, he wasn't a mere peasant. He probably had some hidden goods in his luggage, besides the ruby and sapphire rings on his pale hands.

However, the woman was obviously a gypsy too, which didn't make any sense. Unless…

\- Forgive me, sister. - one of them said to Esmeralda, pronouncing the words carefully. He was the bigger among them, and by the looks of it, their leader. - We didn't mean to interfere. - he affirmed, with a quick wink at her.

\- Of course, you didn't know! No harm done. - she reassured them with a meaningful smile and nod.

\- Good luck! - the man replied, and with a gesture, he instructed the others to get out of the way.

\- You too! - Esmeralda waved, as she gently pressed her heels to Freedom's sides so she would get moving.

Frollo followed her without a single word, as she rode apparently carefree down the road to the inn.

Once they got there, and they were sure the bandits hadn't followed them, they descended their horses and Esmeralda finally turned to look at him.

\- Are you okay? - she asked, concerned.

The judge stared at her, with his jaws clenched. However, his glance was absent, as if he was looking right through her.

\- Hey… it's okay. We're okay. - she said in a soothing tone, getting closer and rubbing his upper arm.

But Frollo was rigid. He seemed unable to pronounce a single word.

\- Come, let's get something to eat. - Esmeralda offered, grabbing his hand and making him walk beside her. He didn't resist, but he didn't held her hand back either. He seemed to have entered some kind of trance.

The woman at the inn welcomed them warmly, and though she immediately noticed something was wrong with the man, she didn't ask, something Esmeralda appreciated. She offered them some hot soup and ham and bread, and she poured two glasses of ale for them.

\- Thank you so much. - Esmeralda said, once the woman left everything at their table and left towards the kitchen. - Please, eat. - she begged Frollo, slowly pushing the plate on his direction.

The judge obeyed silently, though his eyes were still lost in the corner.

\- I'm so sorry I left you. - Esmeralda said after a while. - I shouldn't have stayed behind.

She braced herself, knowing her admission of fault would probably invite a wave of reproach and "I-told-you-so"s, but the fact that Frollo didn't even answer her was way worse.

\- I understand if you're mad… - she said tentatively, trying to crack his walls.

But the man continued to eat as if she wasn't there. So she sighed, and began eating as well with resignation.

\- Can I fetch you anything else? - the innkeeper asked them, once she saw their plates and glasses were empty.

\- No, thank you. The truth is, we're exhausted. I think we'll go rest now. We will be leaving early in the morning. - Esmeralda explained.

\- Alright then, have a good night! - the woman replied with a smile.

\- Why don't you go ahead? - Esmeralda suddenly asked Frollo. - I'll be right there.

Frollo nodded almost imperceptibly, and he headed for the stairs towards the room they had rented for the night.

\- Rough day? - the woman asked the gypsy once they were alone.

\- Rough week, actually. - Esmeralda confessed, sitting down. - I could use another glass of ale if that's possible.

\- Of course. - the woman said with complicity.

She brought two glasses, and given there were no other customers, she sat beside Esmeralda and poured herself a drink too.

\- Your man is… peculiar. - she commented carefully.

\- He is indeed. - Esmeralda replied with a sad smile. - But I love him.

The innkeeper nodded thoughtfully. Esmeralda was grateful that she wasn't asking any questions, or judging them. She figured the woman was probably used to see all kinds of people stopping by on their journeys. She felt she could trust her.

\- I need to ask you a favor. - she said out of the blue. - But it's a secret.

The woman leaned forward, looking around to make sure no one was there. She lowered her tone to ask, intrigued:

\- Of course. What is it?

* * *

Frollo was tossing and turning in the uncomfortable bed, wondering what was taking Esmeralda so long. The truth is, in that moment he wasn't sure if he preferred being alone or with her. But this absurd, yet terrifying thought was creeping its way inside his mind, that she might had gotten sick of him, and that she was running away as he waited there in the dark.

He held his breath to be able to hear better, trying to discern the sound of hooves, or even running feet, among the nocturnal sounds. He was so concentrated and quiet that the sudden creak of the door opening startled him greatly.

Esmeralda entered the room very quietly, trying not to wake him up. He kept his eyes almost closed, trying to look asleep. He managed to see her dark silhouette against the dim glow of the window, taking off her clothes and placing them over a chair. She then got inside the bed, and he felt her weight lowering the hay mattress at his back. He envied the way she was able to just drift off to sleep almost immediately after getting into bed, when it usually took him so long to be able to stop his thoughts.

\- I am not mad. - he whispered, unsure if she would heard him or she would be already out.

However, he felt her palm gently pressing his back, so he turned around to face her.

The kindness and compassion on her eyes made them bright among the darkness of the room. After the constant fighting of the past few days, that was enough to shatter his defenses.

\- I'm ashamed. - he admitted, closing his eyes.

\- Ashamed? - she repeated, baffled.

\- I shouldn't have left you alone. I did it out of pride. It was reckless. - he declared, with a strangled voice.

\- Hey, I was the one to ask you to leave. Besides, nothing happened to me! I was safe. - she reassured him quickly.

\- But if it had… You saw me with those bandits. I froze. It was pathetic. - he said bitterly.

Esmeralda moved closer to him, and she touched his face, slowly moving her fingertips from his silver hair to his thin lips that were pressed together.

\- It wasn't. - she replied, calm but firmly. - It must have brought you a lot of memories back. - she said sympathetically.

\- But I'm not a child anymore, Esmeralda! There's no excuse. - he spat, frustrated. - If you hadn't shown up, God knows what would have happened. I might have handed them everything without a fight.

\- Honestly, I'd rather you doing that, that getting hurt.

\- That's not the point. - Frollo shook his head, irritated.

\- No, you're right. The point is nothing happened. I got to you in time and that was all.

\- I still don't understand… - Frollo said, suddenly changing his tone and narrowing his eyes. - What did I miss? Why did they let us go?

Esmeralda turned to lay on her back, suddenly uncomfortable.

\- I don't know, I guess they figured it wasn't worth it. - she said, though her tone wasn't convincing.

\- No. - Frollo replied, grabbing her chin to make her look at him. - Tell me the truth. There was something unspoken going on.

\- I don't know what you… - Esmeralda began, but her voice faded under the intensity of Frollo's scrutinizing gaze. - Look, it doesn't matter, it's stupid. - she tried to discard the subject.

\- Tell me. - he demanded.

\- Fine. - she yielded with exasperation, removing his hand from her face in an angry gesture. - They thought I was scamming you. They thought you were my personal project, that I was with you to steal from you for my own profit. That's why they said they didn't want to_ interfere_. They meant they didn't want to interfere with my plans. They respected those plans because I'm also a gypsy, I'm one of them. It's like a secret moral code or something, I guess.

Frollo looked horrified.

\- Do you feel better now? - she asked bitterly, angry that he had forced her to say it out loud.

Frollo frowned and turned around, with his back at her.

She snorted, and turned her back at him too.

_So much for an exciting trip_, she thought to herself, before falling asleep.


	45. The Rope

\- What on earth…? - Frollo's eyes widened in disbelief as Esmeralda entered the inn's stable, where he was getting the horses ready for the day.

\- Do you like it? - Esmeralda asked, looking down at her clothes with an inquiring smile.

\- What did you do? - he replied, lowering his tone. She couldn't tell if he was admiring or upset.

\- I asked the innkeeper to sew it for me. - she explained, turning around so he could get a better look.

Her purple skirt had been cut in half, and then each half had been sewn to create some sort of loose pants. She moved her legs back and forth, so he could see the cloth moving with her.

\- See? - she smiled excited.

\- But... why…? - Frollo was bewildered.

\- To get on the horse! - she exclaimed, surprise that he didn't get it. - This way I can ride normally and I won't have to roll up my skirt. You were right, it wasn't the most appropriate thing… This way my legs will be covered! - she announced with pride.

\- But… it's men's clothing! - he replied, also surprised that she didn't get that. He could tell that she was expecting an enthusiastic reaction on his side, so he was doing his best to hide his dread. In fact, what he really thought was that it wasn't even suitable for any man who respected himself. The cloth was too lose, like the costumes the buffoons wore to the Tupsy Turvy.

Esmeralda's smile faded slowly.

\- I thought you'd like it. Could you appreciate that I'm trying to do things your way?

\- My way? You think I would be glad that now, not only you're riding like a man, but you're also dressing as one? - he asked in disbelief. He saw an angry response building in her throat so he spoke again before she could pronounce it. - At least tell me that you have another skirt for when we get to the palace.

\- Of course I do. - she said, offended by his lack of trust.

\- Then, it's fine. Let's just go. We're wasting time. - he settled the matter harshly.

Esmeralda bit her lower lip, fighting hard to contain the tears that were threatening to flood her eyes. She knew she was taking a bold risk with the pants move, but she genuinely thought he would see the conciliatory intention behind it. Instead, apparently it had only made him angrier. And, to be honest, she was getting sick of being the object of his anger. It was unfair…_ right? _

She shook her head, and she climbed on Freedom's saddle. The mare neighed quietly, as if she was greeting her after the night. She gently stroked her hair, envying the simplicity in which animals interacted among themselves and even with people. She missed Djali. She was feeling so alone, in an unknown place, headed to an unknown situation, and with the only familiar person by her side acting so coldly.

She knew Frollo had a lot on his mind, and the encounter with the gypsy thieves last day hadn't helped at all. She feared any progress she had made so far in opening his mind towards her people had now been ruined again, by the reminder of his childhood trauma. And she was aware that her eccentric way of doing things was also getting on his nerves, though she wasn't sure whose fault was that.

Maybe it would all get better once they got to the King's palace, she tried to comfort herself. It was just a day away now, and then they would be surrounded by other people, in an exciting place. She just needed to get through this remaining day.

With that thought, she inhaled deeply and gave Freedom the order to follow the man.

* * *

The day was long, though the heat gave them a break through a cloudy sky and even a light rain during some parts of the way. They barely spoke to each other, except for some poor attempts of conversation that died quicker than a match burns out. Eventually they settled for the silence, and focused on just moving ahead.

However, when they arrived to the inn in which they planned to stay the night, Frollo sighed loudly with relief.

\- We're good. - he announced, breaking the ice.

\- Excuse me? - Esmeralda asked, startled by the sound of his voice after a whole hour of complete silence.

\- See that small mount over there? - he said, pointing towards the south-west.- The King's palace is right behind it. We'll get there tomorrow afternoon, right on time.

\- Oh… good. - she replied, nodding absently.

The truth is she didn't care much about the King's palace anymore. The tiredness and tension between them had resulted in apathy. But she could see that Frollo's mood was lighter once he realized that at least, the first part of his mission would be fulfilled properly. So she decided to seize the opportunity, and made an effort to sound enthusiastic when she said:

\- I can't wait to see what it looks like.

\- Like nothing you've seen before – the judge assured her with a subtle but promising smile.

Esmeralda felt encouraged by that and she smiled back.

\- And the people there… I'm sure they will be fascinating! - she exclaimed in a dreamy tone.

And just like that, Frollo's expression darkened again.

\- What? - she asked, puzzled.

\- Nothing. Let's just go inside. - he replied harshly, descending his horse and handing the reins to the young stable boy that was already waiting for them.

Esmeralda's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief. _What had she done now?_ She followed Frollo's movements and rushed to reach him as he walked steadily towards the inn's door.

\- Hey, stop! - she called, grabbing his arm.

Frollo turned to look at her with inquisitive eyes.

\- I'm not willing to spend another night eating in silence, wondering what the hell is going on in your mind. - she said with a warning tone. - So you better speak up, now.

Frollo frowned and he looked around. The stable boy was just within hearing distance, and probably the people inside the inn as well for the windows were slightly open.

\- I don't think this is the right time or place for...

\- I don't care. - Esmeralda stated, lowering her tone. - I'm not going inside unless you tell me what's wrong. - she announced, crossing her arms and throwing him a defiant glance.

Frollo snorted, visibly irritated at her attitude, but he nodded and began walking towards a small orchard that stood beside the house. Once he was sure they were alone, with enough privacy, he turned to face her again.

\- What do you want me to say? - he asked, with gritted teeth.

\- All of it! Everything you haven't been saying for the past few days. Why are you so mad at me?

\- I told you last night, I am not mad.

\- I don't believe you. - she shook her head. - If you're not mad why are you so harsh?

Frollo studied her expression, and soon realized that behind her apparent anger, she was confused and hurt. His heart softened a little.

\- I am sorry if I have sounded… harsh. I was just focused on getting here.

\- That may be true but it's not all of it. - Esmeralda replied, still with her arms crossed.

The judge's fists clenched, as he tried to hide his restlessness. But at this point, he knew it was just a matter of time until she found the way to make him spill it all out. She wouldn't settle for less than the whole content of his mind. So he decided to turn the tables.

\- Maybe I'm just trying to figure out what _you_ are thinking.

\- Me? - she repeated, baffled. - Why?

\- Well, you haven't been doing much talking either. - he stated, as his confidence grew in this new, more comfortable position. After all, he was used to being the judge and asking the questions, not the other way around.

\- Because I was afraid of how you might react! See, just now, I said that about the palace and you got mad again. Can you tell me why?

_Damn it_, he thought, as his position shifted again.

\- I'm telling you, I am not mad!

\- Then what are you? - she yelled, losing her patience.

\- I'm afraid! - Frollo responded, and just after the words left his mouth he realized the battle was lost. So he surrendered. - I am afraid of what will happen once we get there. I'm afraid because I don't know if they will believe our story of what they might do if they don't. And even if it all goes well, I…

\- What? - she encouraged him, so relieved that he was finally opening up.

\- I am afraid of what you will do. I have lived more than you. I have seen more than you. Enough to know what I want and what I don't. - he paused, looking away from her to gather the courage to say his next words. - But you haven't. What happens if you get there and you love it? What happens if you realize you want more from life? What will happen when you meet more interesting people, younger and open-minded? You've spent this past few days letting me know how rigid, and old-fashioned you find me. Maybe the bandits were somehow right. Maybe you don't love me, but the idea of the life you can have with me… and once you see something better there, you will realize that.

Esmeralda's mouth was open in bewilderment. She shook her head slowly, trying to find the words, but she failed. Finally, she threw him an indecipherable glance, and without a single word, she turned around and began walking towards the stables.

\- Where are you…? - Frollo asked, terrified to hear the answer.

\- I'll see you later! - Esmeralda announced simply, without turning around to look at him.

* * *

Once again Frollo found himself waiting for her in the darkness of their rented room. He didn't know where she had gone or for how long. He didn't know anything and he was exhausted of trying to figure it out. This was one of those situations in which all he could do was let it go and hope that it would turn out alright.

He sat on the bed's edge, defeated. The optimism he had felt a few days ago seemed to be completely out of reach now. How could have things shifted so fast? And they hadn't even gotten to the big issue with the King yet. He buried his face on his palms, as he prayed for some kind of release to all the tension and fear building up inside him.

Then, the door opened and Esmeralda came in.

\- Good, you're awake. - she said in a neutral tone that didn't give away any of her emotions. - Did you eat?

\- Yes. - Frollo responded cautiously. - You?

\- Yes. - she nodded.

Then, unexpectedly, she walked right to him and hugged him. It took him by surprise, but the sudden warmth of her touch felt like heaven after so many days of physical and emotional distance. He sunk his nose in her thick black hair, and inhaled deeply, as his left hand held her neck against his face. Esmeralda took a step back.

\- You once told me you'd put a rope around it. - she said, with her palm pressing his hand into the skin of her neck. - Remember?

Frollo became alert again. Why was she bringing that up now?

\- Yes. - he murmured, recalling their first encounter at the cathedral.

\- Well… - she said, as she dug into the folds of her clothes. - Here. - she pulled out a rough piece of rope.

The judge stared at her, completely lost, not wanting to believe what she was saying.

\- Go ahead. - she urged him, placing the rope on his hands and forcing him to hold it.

\- What…? - Frollo whispered, almost inaudibly.

But she looked at him silently, awaiting his next move. After a few seconds of staring contest, Frollo cleared his throat nervously.

\- Esmeralda… when… when I said that, I… I wasn't thinking about hanging you, you know that right? - he asked, horrified.

\- Oh, I know. - she assured him. - I know exactly what you were thinking. - she paused, to throw him a meaningful look. - And I'm saying, go ahead.

Frollo stared at her again, not sure he was actually getting what she meant. He felt as if he was walking on very thin ice here. His wildest imagination was threatening to take over, and he feared what her reaction would be if he let it run free.

But the look on Esmeralda's face was a look he had come to know very well. Her own darkness was coming to the surface, and she was daring him to meet her there, to dance with her demons. To burn in her dark fire.

And Claude Frollo loved a good fire.

He scooped her into his arms and kissed her with all the repressed passion he had been containing.

To his relief, Esmeralda responded with an equally passionate kiss, which confirmed him what her intentions were.

The blood in his veins heated up immediately, as his sharp fingers dug deep into the flesh of her lower back, pressing her against his body.

Her hands slid down his chest, searching frantically for the opening in his clothes, but then he suddenly stopped her, grabbing her wrists firmly.

\- Come. - he instructed, as his eyes quickly scrutinized the room around them until they found what he was looking for. He couldn't have planned it better.

He pulled from her, still holding a firm grip on her wrists, and directed her to the right side of the bed, next to a tall wood post that acted as a beam to support the wall.

Esmeralda followed his instructions willingly as he placed her laying on the bed, with her arms above her head, and her wrists together.

\- I'm curious… why did you bring this rope in your luggage? - Frollo asked, with a crooked smile, as he tied her hands together and secured them to the wood post so she would be unable to lower her arms.

\- I didn't. I just stole it from the stables now. - she confessed, with a dignified tone.

\- Hmm… - he grunted, throwing her a reproving glance.- A thief, right under my nose.

Esmeralda raised an eyebrow with skepticism.

\- Well, excuse me, your honor, but…

\- Silence. - Frollo ordered, placing his thin index finger over her lips. - It's fortunate I'm here to correct such inappropriate behavior.

Esmeralda's core heated at the same time that her pride began to reconsider her plan. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to give away all the power so willingly. However, the fact that she was surrendering herself to him in such a powerless position only filled her with a burning sensation of freedom and excitement.

Frollo stared at her from the bedside, as if he was carefully considering where to begin. He was taking his time, allowing his gaze to roam freely over her entire body, and she felt her heart racing with expectation.

\- I had you for a man of action. - she tempted him, in an attempt to rush his thinking.

The judge threw her an evil grin.

\- I am taking things slow tonight. - he announced in a low, calm tone.

And so he did. She was used to his fiery passion, the eagerness of his hands traveling across her skin, the strength of his arms enclosing her inside them, his avid mouth stealing the air from her lungs… But this time, he delighted himself in moving painfully slowly, well aware of the increasing tension building up inside her, for he too had a plan.

No inch of her skin was left unvisited or unattended, except precisely the most sensitive ones, which he avoided like a river circling around a rock, flowing everywhere but there. He came just close enough so she would believe he was finally obliging to her unspoken desires, only to retire immediately and leave her short of breath with frustrated anticipation.

Frollo felt secretly glad to hear her panting, feeling at last how the much missed control returned to him. He had felt powerless for days now. There was no rush.

But if she had thought the teasing was torture, when he finally made a stop between her legs she thought she was going to lose her mind.

She was usually an impatient woman, more so when passion ignited her already heated blood. So she would normally only allow him a couple minutes of foreplay before urging him to join her fully. She was not used to laying down and experiencing the nuances of the sensations he was able to produce with his surprisingly skillful lips. But this time she had no way to grab him or pull him closer, for her hands remained firmly tied to the bed post.

\- Oh, come on. - she begged with a strangled voice, as his movements slowed down even more, making her painfully aware of the slightest touch in her sensitive skin.

\- What is it? - Frollo asked with an innocent tone, full of mockery.

Esmeralda bit her lip, determined not to ask for anything.

\- Are you regretting your decision? - he inquired.

She shook her head, though her hip involuntarily went up in a spasm to follow his mouth as he raised his face to look at her.

\- Your body seems to disagree. - Frollo observed with a smug smile.

Esmeralda threw him a killing glance, and then closed her eyes shut, inhaling slowly to regain control of her movements. When Frollo realized her intention, his thumb pressed among her folds, right in the exact spot where all her nervous terminations converged. A loud moan escaped her throat immediately in response. Satisfied, the judge removed his finger right away.

\- Are you having fun? - she asked, furious, her face red with heat and irritation.

\- You have no idea. - Frollo's mischievous smile widened.

\- I'm not! - she spat. - Please, release me now. - she ordered.

\- Oh, no, no. - Frollo shook her head. - You see, you said "go ahead", and I have the feeling you knew what you were getting yourself into, my little thief. - he explained, coming closer to look her in the eye.

She opened her mouth to protest, but his proximity only made her heart beat faster and her craving grow stronger. She shut her mouth with an angry look.

\- Don't worry, you don't have to say anything now. - Frollo stated with a carefree tone. - By the end of this night you will be begging. - he predicted, before eagerly resuming his fun.

And everyone in the house that night could testify that it definitely came true.


	46. The Arrival

The King's palace was bigger than she had ever expected.

In comparison, the palace of Justice in Paris looked like on of the humble inns they had been staying at during the journey. She stared in awe at the beautiful white majestic walls, the tall windows with stained glass like those of Notre Dame.

The huge doors opened as they approached the main entrance. Soldiers from the King's guard promptly formed two rows to escort them as they rode inside, through the entrance hall into the big courtyard, where the stable workers were already awaiting them.

Esmeralda's mouth was dry as she looked up to the ceiling of the passage, which was painted with beautiful scenes. The walls were home to human size sculptures of previous monarchs, kings and their queens, that observed them silently. She began to fear how she would manage to fit in enough to not raise suspicions. Maybe Frollo was right… maybe she shouldn't have come in the first place. But it was too late now for those kinds of considerations, so she raised her chin up and prepared herself to face whatever came her way.

By her side, Frollo looked much more like he belonged there. His expression was calm and sober, though it was only a mask. She knew him well enough to see the restlessness in which his fingers clenched at Snowball's reins, whitening his knuckles.

However, when they arrived at the courtyard, his scrutinizing eyes filled with horror. Esmeralda followed his gaze, wondering what could possibly had caused such reaction. She looked at the several faces of palace servants and soldiers that stood in the courtyard, all of them apparently expectant but nothing seemed odd… Until she recognized one of the faces.

His blonde hair had been cut short, and his beard was shaved, so it took her a second to figure out where had she seen him before. The Sun god displayed a cruel, vengeful smile as he patiently waited for her reaction. He wanted to make sure she had recognized him before his next move.

When her mouth opened with disbelief, Phoebus knew his time had come. With a swift move, he reached behind his golden armor, under the blue cape, and took out a loaded crossbow.

\- I believe I still owed you this! - he proclaimed, and without hesitation he shoot.

The arrow traveled faster in the air than Esmeralda's scream. By the time she heard her own gut-wrenching voice, Frollo's body had already dropped dead by her side.

* * *

.

* * *

\- I can't believe it! - the older woman exclaimed out loud, throwing a meaningful glance to her sister. - Again?

Her sister shrugged, as she continued to knead the bread for the day. She was single, so she wouldn't know why her sister found it so outrageous.

\- Are you jealous? - she inquired casually, with a crooked smile.

\- Jealous? - the woman repeated, scandalized. - Of course not! I am a married woman and I'm perfectly satisfied with my duties as such… But this is sinful!

\- She was wearing a ring on her finger last night. - her sister pointed out, as she introduced the bread into the oven for baking.

\- It doesn't matter… that amount of screaming, that can't come from something _christian_! - the woman replied, shaking her head vigorously, as she removed the kettle from the fire.

\- Sounds like jealous to me. - her sister murmured with a chuckle.

\- Not if _that_ was it. - the woman replied, giving in with a mischievous smile, pointing to the ceiling and listening to the restored silence.

A few minutes later, the strange couple entered the dining room. The tall, elegant man, seemed to be in a much better mood than the night before, though her dark-haired companion looked grim, and her eyes were reddened.

\- I guess they'll be needing a full breakfast. - the younger sister commented in a meaningful tone.

The inn keeper hit her ribs with her elbow, in an attempt to shut her mouth so their customers wouldn't hear.

\- What can I get you? - she asked instead, coming closer to the table by the window where they had chosen to sit.

\- Please, give us some of everything you have prepared. - the man asked politely, curious about the quiet chuckle that he heard behind the counter.

\- Yes, Sir, right away. - the woman nodded, and rushed inside the kitchen, throwing her sister a killing glance.

She prepared two plates with some scrambled eggs, sausages and toasted bread, and two large cups of steaming tea she had just brewed. When she came back to their table, she noticed the way in which the man was holding the woman's hand, in such a tender and reassuring way.

\- It was just a nightmare. - she overheard him say. - Once you eat you will feel better. - he added, pointing towards her as she approached them with the food.

The young woman smiled at her with gratitude, though her eyes were still wet.

\- What is wrong with her? - her sister asked, once she was back behind the counter.

\- I don't know! - the inn keeper replied, lowering her tone. - I'm not a gossip, and neither should you be!

\- Come on! Who would be so sad after such a passionate night? - her sister insisted, raising her eyebrows.

\- I told you, it was sinful. Apparently God punished her with nightmares after that. That must have been why she was screaming earlier - the woman responded, quickly discarding all her intentions of discretion.

\- Well, I wouldn't mind a nightmare of two if I could…

\- Shut up! Go back to your bread – the inn keeper hushed her, covering her ears, and turning her back at her sister.

However, when an hour later she saw the weird couple on the front door, securing their luggage on their horses backs and smiling at each other, she couldn't help but to pause and look through the window. There was something about them, about the way they looked at each other, that made her secretly admit, if only to herself, that she was indeed... jealous.

* * *

\- The King would never allow that. - Frollo stated for the third time, as their horses hooves raised some dust from the rustic path.

\- You promise? - Esmeralda asked, still not convinced.

\- I swear. That's not how things are done in court. - the judge insisted. - Even if there is a problem, there would be a fair trial awaiting us, not just some random soldier executing a sentence we didn't even hear!

Esmeralda nodded absently, glad that she had fought the urge to tell him that the random soldier in her nightmare wasn't actually so, but his former Captain of the guard, and her former love interest. She had thought it was an unnecessary detail and that it would only worry him now that he was finally looking more optimistic. However, her stomach was still wrenched with the secret fear of finding out that Phoebus was indeed waiting for them at the Palace, for some unknown cruel joke of destiny.

On the other hand, Frollo was feeling better than he had since they left Paris. Yes, the King was only a few hours away, but it was a beautiful morning, and most importantly, Esmeralda and him had solved their differences… and how had they solved them. With humor, he reminded himself that moments before she had entered the room last night, he had been praying for release… and release was exactly what they had both achieved… multiple times.

\- Why are you so happy? - Esmeralda inquired, watching the involuntary smile showing up in his face.

\- I'm just reminiscing. - he replied with a proud tone.

She couldn't help to smile back, despite her worries were still nudging at the back of her mind.

\- I'm glad you liked at least one of my ideas these days. - she pointed out, acidly.

Frollo looked at her, unsure if she was trying to bring something up again, but the look on her face was of complicity, so he relaxed.

\- Speaking of which… - he remembered, after a couple seconds. - Once we arrive at the top of the mount we will become visible from the palace. I don't think anyone will be vigilant from such a distance but still…

\- I will change. - she quickly reassured him.- I have my clean dress right here in my bag. And I will sit like a proper lady, sideways on my mare. - she promised, though her tone barely concealed her mockery.

\- Thank you. - he responded with a gentle nod.

An hour later they were at the top, and the palace became visible for them. They stopped their horses and descended to stretch their limbs. Esmeralda found some high bushes, and she hid among them for her change of clothes.

\- Ta-daaa! - she announced theatrically, when she emerged in her blue dress.

\- Wow! - Frollo pretended to be surprised. - Who are you and what have you done with the young lad that was accompanying me?

\- You idiot! - she scolded him, hitting his arm as she laughed. - I told you you could trust me to behave and dress properly!

\- You did. - he nodded, putting his arms around her. - You know everyone is going to fall in love with you, right? - he asked, and though he intended to sound light and humorous, his voice revealed true concern.

\- That's their problem. - she affirmed plainly. - Listen to me… You can untie the rope from my hands, but no one will ever untie me from you. I belong with you. And you belong with me. Are we clear?

\- Crystal. - he confirmed, and leaned on to kiss her. He was surprised by the sudden desperation of her mouth. - Hey...- he murmured, pulling away.

\- And if someone even attempts to hurt you I will kill them. - Esmeralda added, with a dark dormant fury in her eyes.

Frollo laughed nervously, flattered but also worried about her unpredictable temper.

\- Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

* * *

\- Are you ready? - Frollo asked in a quiet tone once they arrived close enough.

They were still among the trees, and in front of them there was a plain field where a few soldier tents stood. Probably they were the ones in charge of guarding the palace during the nighttime. Though Frollo was sure they had already spotted them coming for a while now, the doors remained still closed, and there was no sign of life from inside the building.

Esmeralda did her best to appear confident as she nodded firmly. Frollo cleared his throat, concerned.

\- Remember…

\- Yes, never speak to him directly unless he speaks to me, bow every time, got it. - she repeated the instructions he had given beforehand.

\- Very well. - Frollo encouraged her.

\- Let's go. We don't wanna be late. - she urged him, anxious to get moving.

She was in no hurry to get to the palace and leave their safe privacy behind… But she didn't want him to look at her any second longer.

She was afraid he might discover her increasing anguish, as she realized that the palace she had never visited before looked exactly as the one from her dream.


	47. The King

The stone eyes of the sculptures seemed to follow Esmeralda as their horses walked through the entrance hall of the Palace, towards the courtyard. It felt as if they were silently murmuring among themselves with the knowledge that they had seen her before. The eerie feeling of recognizing every single detail from her dream was both accelerating her pumping heart and freezing her blood. This couldn't be happening. She had never, ever, seen or even heard a description of that place and still, she knew exactly what she would find wherever her eyes dared to roam.

\- Claude… - she whispered, almost inaudibly, so the sound of the horse hooves on the cobblestones covered her voice. Maybe it was for the best, she thought. What was she supposed to say? "Hey, we should get out of here because I had this dream?"

But again… if something horrible was indeed about to happen, how would she feel if she had done nothing to prevent it, knowing it beforehand?

She had no time to decide, for the sunlight of the open courtyard momentarily blinded her. Her heart stopped in her chest, as her whole body got ready for throwing herself against Frodo to move him out of the way of the arrow.

But there was no arrow. And no crossbow.

And most importantly, no Phoebus.

She inhaled heavily, with such an intense relief it made her lightheaded. By her side, Frollo threw an imperceptible smile her way, as if he was saying "_I told you so_".

\- Your Honor! - a familiar voice said. - My lady!

Once she recovered from the adrenaline rush she had just experienced, Esmeralda was greeted by the second less-desirable face she could have expected to meet there.

\- Mr Lefebvre. - she greeted him back with a polite nod.

\- Please, allow me! - he rushed to help her descend her mare, pushing away without contemplation the stable worker who was already placed to do so.

\- I appreciate your help, sir. - Esmeralda said, secretly disgusted by the sweatiness of his hands.

\- Oh, what did I tell you? - he scolded her humorously. - I am not nobility, just a humble servant of the King!

\- Right, forgive me.

\- Nothing to forgive. - Gaspard Lefebvre quickly stated, with a discarding gesture of his hand, before offering her his arm. - I hope you had a comfortable journey here… I must say I am surprised that our Minister of Justice saw fit to bring such an elegant lady with no carriage, riding on a horse's back the whole way! - he exclaimed, with a scandalized tone.

\- Oh, but you see, Mr Lefebvre – Frollo intervened, once he had also descended his horse, walking towards them in a determined way. - Carriage journeys take much more time, which we would have had if our summoning hadn't been so urgently made. - he pointed out, visibly irritated, though his tone remained polite and calm at all times.

\- Right, right. - Gaspard nodded conciliatory.- Exceptional situations call for exceptional solutions.

\- Precisely. - Frollo agreed.

\- Well, we're here now! - Esmeralda exclaimed with a joyful tone, which brought Lefebvre's attention back to her immediately.

\- And we're really glad to have you! - he affirmed with a charming smile, though his eyes remained cold and dark. - Allow me to show you around, my lady.

\- Of course! - she agreed and took his arm, throwing Frollo a quick apologetic look.

The judge nodded, calm. He knew they would be meeting the emissary there, and he knew what to expect from him. They would do better in just playing along and hope whatever was going on wouldn't take long to be resolved, so they could be on their way back as soon as possible.

The Palace was huge. Upon first look, Esmeralda got the impression that it looked like a brighter, bigger twin of the palace of justice she was now so used to. The walls and pillars were built with white elegant stones, the windows were wide and tall with intricate glass designs and thick curtains set aside to let the light in. Long, elegant carpets covered the hallways, and beautiful paintings and engravings decorated the walls in the spaces between the doors. Those were also wide and tall, and the wood had been carved and painted with golden colors. They looked nothing like the sober, almost prison-like thick doors of the palace of justice.

In fact, as they walked through different chambers, Esmeralda became aware of more and more differences among the two buildings. While Frollo's palace was built in a very organized, practical way, with long straight hallways and parallel chambers, the King's palace seemed to have been designed to confuse or entertain its visitors, with unsuspected twists and turns, and rooms leading to other sections of the building. Soon she had lost her sense of orientation, and the streetwise gypsy in her began growing restless as she unconsciously tried to retrace their steps in her mind, looking for a possible way out in case they needed one. However, the beauty-admirer in her could not deny the richness and taste in which the palace had been meticulously created.

After what felt like a long time wandering around, Gaspard Lefebvre finally stopped.

\- Here are your chambers. I hope you will find it all suitable. - he indicated, gesturing with his hand toward a semi-open door.

\- Of course. - Frollo took a step forward, and Esmeralda followed, but the judge immediately threw her a warning look.

\- Forgive me, my lady. - Lefebvre said, clearing his throat. - I meant this is the Minister room. Your chamber is further along the hall. - he pointed out, and his subtle smile made Frollo's guts wrench with the certainty that the emissary had made sure Esmeralda's bedroom was near his own.

The gypsy hesitated for a second. Of course she knew they couldn't act like a couple in front of anyone at the palace, but for some reason, she hadn't stopped to consider that that meant they wouldn't be sleeping in the same room. She had got used to sleeping with Frollo and now the thought of spending the night alone in a foreign place was unsettling. However, she gathered her thoughts and with a smile, and a confident look towards the judge, she followed Lefebvre.

\- You may rest from your journey, dinner will be brought to you tonight. The King will be seeing you both in the morning. - Gaspard explained, before gently guiding Esmeralda with a hand in her lower back.

Frollo inhaled slowly, fighting the urge to remove that hand with his very sword, and he closed the door behind him.

* * *

The King was waiting for them on the Audience room, sitting on his throne and escorted by his guard and some nobles that had come to witness the whole thing.

\- You look amazing. - Frollo murmured to Esmeralda once they met at the door, where they had been told to wait until they were called inside.

\- Thank you… you haven't slept either, huh? - she said, pointing to the dark circles below his eyes.

\- Not much. - Frollo confessed.

\- I missed you in my bed… - she said with a meaningful look, and though he was tired and worried, he felt the heat traveling to his lower regions. This woman held such power over him that he was pretty sure he would feel desire towards her even if he was taking his last breath. It was insane, and yet, wonderful.

The doors opened slowly, and the voice of Gaspard Lefebvre reverberated across the room.

\- Please, come in.

They exchanged a fleeting silent look and obeyed.

Frollo felt scrutinized, but actually, all eyes were on Esmeralda. She was wearing an elegant long-sleeved velvety dress that matched her emerald eyes, and made her caramel skin look even more beautiful. She walked like a true aristocrat, slowly, with her head up high but not in a pretentious way. Frollo watched her with the corner of his eye, wondering if she had been secretly practicing such a paused, controlled way to move, given that she was usually practically dancing around the whole time.

Esmeralda's eyes were fixated on the King. She knew it was rude of her to stare but she couldn't fight her curiosity. The man was mature, it was hard to calculate his age because his hair was blond, so she couldn't tell how much of it was whitening from where she was standing. Also, his face was rounded and full, which made him look younger than he was. His hazel eyes were kind, which brought her some peace, but he didn't seem too perceptive, and she immediately noticed the proximity and avidity in which Lefebvre stood by him. It wasn't hard to guess that he was used to subtly manipulating the man on his behalf.

They arrived at the throne, and they both bowed with respect.

\- Minister Claude Frollo.- the King greeted him. - Welcome back. It is a pleasure to have your presence here, as always.

\- Thank you, Your Majesty. - Frollo responded, still with his head low. - It is my pleasure to serve you.

\- And you, our beautiful guest of honor. - the King continued, shifting his attention towards her. - I believe your name is Esmeralda?

\- It is, Your Majesty. - Esmeralda nodded, with a timid smile.

\- How wonderfully exotic! - the King applauded, clapping his hands together. - I hope my winter Palace lives up to your expectations.

\- It certainly exceeds them, Your Majesty. - Esmeralda said humbly.

\- Wonderful. - the King responded, visibly proud. - You know my emissary and man of trust, Mr Lefebvre. - he said, pointing to Gaspard, who bowed his head with gratitude. - I would also like to introduce you to his brother, Gérard Lefebvre, my captain of the Royal Guard.

He pointed towards his left side, down the platform in which the throne stood. There, standing in a military position next to a pillar, was a man that truly resembled Gaspard in height and looks, with black hair and beard and blue eyes, though his features were less sharp and his expression much more serious.

\- It's an honor to meet you, Mr Lefebvre. - Frollo said gently, though internally he was cursing that there were_ two_ Lefebvres to face now. He remembered Gaspard mentioning he was an orphan but he had said nothing about having a brother. Though, truth be told, neither had he. Only his closest people knew of the existence of Jehan, as it was a subject he wasn't comfortable discussing.

\- Well… - the King began, straightening his position in the throne, and Frollo's body involuntarily stiffened. Here it comes. - As you well know, a few weeks ago I received the visit of the Bishop. He came to present me with his concerns, for he had gotten a letter from the archdeacon of Notre Dame, describing disturbing events that had transpired in Paris.

Frollo fought the urge to interrupt the King to explain himself once again. The King noticed his discomfort and made a calming gesture with his hand.

\- Of course, that was quickly clarified and put to rest. I have known the Minister for a long time now, and I trust his decisions when it comes to applying justice where needed.

The judge nodded with gratitude.

\- However, it was my moral and royal duty to make sure that the situation was under control, for the sake of all parts involved. - by his side, Lefebvre nodded with approval. - Mr Lefebvre here kindly offered to head up to Paris on my behalf as an emissary, and he came back with great news.

Esmeralda was doing her best to keep a straight, calm face, though her heart was pumping heavily in her chest. However, as the King spoke, the optimism in his words made her begin to consider that they might have been wrong to worry so much.

\- Not only the situation in Paris was perfectly clear and contained, but also he brought news of a brand new method to solve one of our country's increasing problems. The disturbs caused by the gypsies.

This affirmation caused some agreeing murmurs among the men in the room, which shook her heads visibly upset by said disturbs. Frollo was able to hear some insults coming from their gritted teeth when thinking about the gypsies. Words as "plague" and "pest" made him threw Esmeralda a worried glance, but she nodded almost imperceptibly as if to say "Don't worry, I'll keep my composure."

\- Gentlemen, please. - the King hushed the murmurs with a conciliatory gesture. - Our guest here deserves our full respect. - he indicated, pointing towards Esmeralda, who lowered her head with appreciation.

The men quickly changed their expressions and silenced their whispers, some of them even looked slightly embarrassed by their lack of manners. However, in the lateral of the room, Gérard Lefebvre kept staring at her with an indecipherable, but certainly not apologetic look. Frollo felt a chill going down his spine, and was secretly relieved that he wasn't the Lefebvre brother pulling the strings by the King's side. At least, Gaspard's obvious enchantment with Esmeralda kind of guaranteed her safety while they were there.

\- Upon hearing such wondrous news, I had no choice but to send an urgent message to the Minister here, to come and explain how he has implemented this method, so we can all follow his example throughout the kingdom as soon as possible. - the King concluded with excitement

For an instant, Frollo felt a heavy burden being lift from his chest, and deep relief coursed through his veins. That was it? That's all the King wanted from him? No trial, no punishments? It was too good to be true!

By his side Esmeralda was smiling with satisfaction. In the past few days, the tensions of the journey had gotten to her and she had been infected with Frollo's concerns… But now her natural optimism had returned and she had to fight the urge to turn towards the judge and yell "I told you so!". She settled for throwing him a meaningful glance, which from the outside could be interpreted as mere pride for their work together.

However, Frollo's expression was not relaxed. He seemed alert, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Would this man never relax? she thought, frustrated.

\- Would you do the honors, beautiful Esmeralda? - the King asked her suddenly. - I am genuinely curious as to how such an unlikely partnership came to happen. - he said, gesturing towards her and Frollo.

\- Of course, Your Majesty. - Esmeralda replied, clearing her throat. - As you mentioned, there was a surge of conflict in Paris several weeks ago. Some gypsies rioted during the peasant's festival and they defied Frollo's soldiers and the Minister himself. The prosecution was harsh for both sides, and eventually the gypsies were captured and sentenced. But the Minister, being the merciful pious man he is, considered that proceeding with the executions would only bring more resentment and fuel the fire of the conflict. You see… my brother was one of their leaders, Your Majesty.

The King gasped with surprise.

\- I find it hard to imagine... such an elegant and sensible woman as yourself to be related to a criminal!

\- One does not choose their kin, I'm afraid. - Esmeralda simply stated with a shrug.

\- Of course, I meant no offense. - The King responded promptly.

Esmeralda nodded in acknowledgment, and continued her story.

\- So, as I was saying, my brother was one of their leaders, so the Minister came to me and offered a deal to spare his life and those of the others. He would let them go as long as they pledged their obedience to a set of rules, and vowed not to cause any more trouble in the city. I would remain at the palace of justice as a security clause to guarantee our people's genuine intention and trustworthiness.

The King nodded slowly, considering her words. He turn his gaze to Frollo.

\- I am eager to know what kind of rules you considered appropriate to manage the situation, Frollo.

\- Yes, Your Majesty. - Frollo responded, taking a step forward. - With the help of Esmeralda for better understanding of their habits, we banned those activities that are considered sinful or pagan, such as palm-reading, or lustful spectacles. We allowed them to perform their music and shows as long as they remained pure and they were only paid with alms, and in no case charged. If the citizens chose to gave them money, it would depend on their freedom and not any sort of scam.

\- Did they agree to that? - the King asked with disbelief.

\- Well, they didn't have much of a choice, did they? - Gaspard commented boldly, for he had not been addressed.

But the King didn't seem to mind his interruption.

\- That's for sure… however, I find it hard to picture, gypsies giving away their habits just like that.

\- Well – Frollo began, waiting for the King's permission to proceed. The King nodded in his direction. - That was one of the reasons why Esmeralda chose to stay at the Palace. So if there were any issues that the gypsies wanted to discuss, they could come to her and she would mediate in any hypothetical negotiation. That seemed to soothe their concerns, and along with their gratitude for their spared lives, the peaceful connivance was restored.

\- I see. Isn't it wonderful? - the King asked, looking at the men in the room, who nodded in agreement. - It's come to my knowledge that due to your regulations, many gypsies even chose to leave the city entirely!

\- Indeed. - Frollo responded, recalling how mad he had been that they had used his illness to flee, and how grateful he was now for that fact.

\- Well… as my helpful emissary pointed out, it is still soon to see results in the long term… But I for one find this extremely promising. My dear Esmeralda… do you believe other gypsy communities would be willing to follow your steps and negotiate with members of the court?

\- I am sure they will, Your Majesty. - Esmeralda affirmed convincingly. - We only wish to be able to live in peace, just as your people do.

\- That's wonderful. - the King nodded, clapping his hands again. - Just wonderful. There are so many details I wish to discuss with you, and I'm sure everyone will be thrilled to get a chance to hear more about your story… That's why I'm hosting a Royal Dance this evening, with you two as my guests of honor.

\- It would be our pleasure, Your Majesty. - Frollo said humbly.

\- Well then, enough with this seriousness! I will see you both at the Main Hall at sunset! - the King stated, and he got up from his throne. The soldiers formed a row to escort him to the lateral door, where he disappeared into another one of the infinite chambers the palace seemed to have.

Once he and most of the soldiers and men were gone, Gaspard Lefebvre approached Frollo and Esmeralda.

\- I'm glad you got such a good impression from your visit. - Esmeralda told him with a smile.

\- Well, how could I not? - Lefebvre winked at her without restraint.

\- Please, accept our gratitude for speaking well of our system to Our Majesty. - Frollo said, trying to remind him of his presence, which the emissary seemed to consistently forget about.

\- Sure, of course. - Gaspard nodded once in his direction, before turning to Esmeralda again. - I hope that gratitude will earn me the honor of a dance tonight. - he said seductively.

\- We'll see… - Esmeralda replied with a flirtatious smile, which was enough for Lefebvre to leave the room with a puffed chest like a peacock.

Esmeralda and Frollo followed him towards the door, where some servants were already awaiting them to guide them back to their chambers. Apparently, there were so many people at the palace that they wouldn't get the chance to be alone or speak with privacy.

\- Congratulations, Your Honor. - Esmeralda said, not without certain concealed mockery in her tone. - It appears your hard work pleased the King. It was all for the best.

\- One would think so. - Frollo replied, staring into her eyes with intensity, as if to warn her not to lower her guard just yet.

Yes, it was evident that the King was pleased with their diplomatic method… But something was off.

If everything was okay... _why was Lefebvre so happy?_


	48. The Dance

The Main Hall looked like it had been taken straight out of a dream. The long, wide room had two infinite tables on each side, with uncountable dishes of food and jars of wine and ale. Several roasted turkeys, so many different vegetables, hams, and all sorts of baked goods that filled the air with a festival of scents that hit Esmeralda's nose the second she reached the doors.

She stopped to admire the breathtaking room. The golden-orange light of sunset was still coming through the massive windows, though the lamps were already lit. But they were like nothing she had ever seen before. Torches and candelabrum looked primitive in comparison to the huge metal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, each one holding at least two hundred candles. She wondered how many servants, or how much time it had took to lit each and every one of them.

At the other end of the room, the King was sitting on a big throne, more ostentatious that the one in the audience hall. Next to him, in also ostentatious seats, were the two Lefebvre brothers, and a couple of the noble men she had seen in the morning.

But this time, it was the rest of the people that caught her attention. There were so many of them, all dressed with elegant, colorful clothes. They were eating from the tables, conversing lively, and dancing to the music. Her eyes roamed around the room, looking for the musicians. They were gathered in one discreet corner. There was a harpsichord, similar to the one Frollo had, but bigger in size and painted with brighter colors. There were also some string instruments that she didn't know the names of. Together, they sounded beautifully, and her whole body responded with an urge to dance, though the music was slower than she was used to and she wasn't sure what the proper moves would be.

\- What do you think? - Frollo's deep voice startled her, taking her out of her wondering trance.

She turned to look at him as he walked closer. He was also wearing his most elegant clothes, and though they were too dark and serious for her taste, she couldn't help the urge to reach out her fingers and touch the soft velvet of his sleeve. He also smelled so nice, and she suspected that his chamber might have been provided with essential oils, just as the ones she had found in hers.

Frollo was looking at her with expectancy, and for the first time since they had arrived at the Palace, she saw his eyes shine. She realized he was glad to witness her amazement at the Main Hall and the people in it.

\- Is it how you had imagined? - he asked eagerly.

\- Better. - Esmeralda confessed. - Thank you for letting me come with you. I never thought I would see something like this.

Frollo smiled and he offered her his arm. She tilted her head and took it in a polite manner. It was actually amusing to pretend they were just mere diplomats, with nothing in common but gypsy negotiations. She winked at him briefly, and they entered the room.

\- There they are! - the King announced delighted.

He then proceeded to introduce them to the crowd, who after a brief, polite applause, got back to their entertainment. It was soon apparent that they didn't care much about whatever royal affairs were behind their gatherings, for their interest laid in the gathering itself.

However, some of them were curious about the gypsy woman, so they came to introduce themselves and hopefully get a juicy piece of gossip to share with the rest.

The presentations lasted for and hour, while the food and drink quickly vanished from the tables, though there was much more of it than anyone could ever swallow.

\- Are you enjoying yourself, my dear? - the King asked her once the last couple of nobles walked away.

\- I am, Your Majesty, thank you so much. - Esmeralda said with a broad smile.

\- I don't suppose you will let the evening go by without dancing…? - he suggested.

\- Oh, I wouldn't dare! This music is so beautiful! - she responded in a dreamy tone. - But I'm afraid I don't know how to dance to it… you see, music is different where I come from.

\- I hadn't considered that! How unmindful of me! - the king lamented.

\- Oh, please, Your Majesty, it's not your fault at all! It is me who must learn your manners if I wish to collaborate with members of the court. - Esmeralda quickly assured, and the man nodded with gratitude. Though he was a little eccentric and apparently not very bright, she decided that she liked his kindness.

\- Well, I'm sure our members of the court will be delighted to show you the way.- he affirmed, throwing Frollo a suggesting look. - Would the Minister be so kind? After all, he's the one who brought you into this new world, the least he can do is being your guide while on it. - he said, with certain amusement concealed in his tone.

It wasn't hard for Esmeralda to guess that the King knew Frollo enough to know that he was not a man for dancing or participating in this sort of activities, and it probably brought him pleasure to tease his old friend.

She also had to contain a chuckle when she saw Frollo's expression. The judge was clearly disgusted by the King's proposition, and he probably was feeling the urge of crawling under the table, away from the spotlight. But he was also aware that it was completely inappropriate to discard a king's suggestion, even if it wasn't a direct order. And he didn't want Esmeralda to feel rejected either. The struggle was palpable in his face.

\- I would be honored to be taught by such an experienced member of the court. - she said, to add some pressure.

Frollo cleared his throat, as his cheeks reddened.

\- I suppose we could try…

\- Wonderful!- the king clapped, and he winked at Esmeralda, who clapped as well, before taking the hand Frollo was offering.

They descended towards the crowd, and the people seemed surprised to see him there. There were some murmurs and chuckles, but Frollo did his best to ignore them.

\- You didn't help up there. - he accused her with a frown, as he placed their hands in the correct position.

\- Oh, I wasn't trying to help. - Esmeralda confessed with a mischievous smile.

\- Thank you for that. - Frollo replied with sarcasm.

\- Is it so bad, having to dance with me? - she asked, pretending to be offended.

\- It's torture. - he stated genuinely, shaking his head.

\- Really? - she asked, this time actually offended.

\- Yes. - he affirmed, tightening the grip on her waist. He made her turn and when people's arms went up in sync to clap, he used the momentarily coverage to lean closer to her ear. - It's torture to have you this close and not being able to…

He turned again without finish his sentence, but Esmeralda didn't need to hear the words out loud.

She continued to follow his lead, enjoying ever moment of brief proximity before stepping away again, and throwing him meaningful looks that only increased his desire. She could see him biting his lip in an attempt to maintain control of himself, and it only made her want to push his limits further.

But before she could do anything else to ignite Frollo's insides, a small cough made them both turn around.

\- If you'll allow me, Minister. - Gaspard Lefebvre was standing behind him, apparently asking for permission to step in. - I believe you promised me a dance. - he said, looking at Esmeralda with avid eyes.

\- I seem to recall no promises were made. - Frollo objected, perhaps too harshly due to the terrible timing of his interruption.

Gaspard frowned and his tone also changed when he said:

\- The King has requested your presence for a private conversation. - he pointed to the throne with his head.

Frollo looked at Esmeralda with hesitation, but she nodded with encouragement.

\- We'll resume our dance later, your honor. - she said with an innocent tone.

\- Alright. - the judge yielded, though the eagerness in which Lefebvre reached for her waist made him feel sick to his stomach.

* * *

When he set foot on the small adjacent room where the King was waiting for him, Frollo felt the intense heat of the big fireplace in front of him. For the first time, the fire didn't seem luring, but threatening, as if it was somehow eager to consume him if he dared to step too close. Frollo cleared his throat, trying as well to clear his mind.

\- You requested my presence, Your Majesty? - he asked softly.

\- I did, my friend, come in. - the King warmly invited.

He was waiting by the lateral table, by a silver tray with metal ornamented chalices and a tall jar of dark, red wine. The King gestured towards the wine and, as Frollo nodded, he proceeded to pour two drinks.

Frollo's eyes wandered around, noticing there weren't any servants present, nor any King guards whatsoever. There were only the two of them, which was extremely rare. Even during private audiences, there was always some member of the royal guard present to protect the King, or at least some servant to attend to his needs. And though Frollo usually didn't like being observed, the lack of witnesses made him restless.

\- There you go. It's one of my finest. - the King announced proud, as he handed him his cup.

\- Thank you, Your Majesty. - Frollo took the cup and brought it to his lips. The wine was certainly good, though its flavor was a little too sweet for him. But he knew the King enjoyed sweet treats in all its forms. - One of your finest, indeed. - he complimented the expectant King.

\- The harvests are better in this weather. - the monarch explained, with a puffed chest. - It's one of the many advantages of the south.

\- I can imagine. - the judge nodded, wondering where the conversation was headed.

\- How could you? You only show your face down here when you're forced to! - the King laughed. - For the life of me, I can not understand what's the appeal up there in the cold rainy north. Just look at your skin… it's almost translucent!

\- My job takes place inside for most of the time, Your Majesty. - Frollo tried to defend himself from the King's friendly jokes.

\- So does mine! But when I step into my gardens, there is some sunlight to greet me and prevent my veins from showing… - he pointed out with a wink.

Frollo took another sip, deciding to let the man get away with his teasing.

\- Haven't you ever considered moving south? - the King asked casually, refilling his cup, which he had drunk quickly.

\- As the Minister of Justice my place is in Paris, Your Majesty. You were the one who assigned me there. - the judge reminded him, a bit confused.

\- Oh, I know, I know! And you've done a wonderful job all these years! Which is why I was thinking, maybe it's time for a change?

\- A change? - Frollo repeated, with his mouth dry. He tried to calm his heart, which was beginning to pump hard inside his chest.

\- This project of yours, of negotiating with the gypsies… I've been thinking it would be wonderful to implement it on every important city in France. I could really use your help in advising our governors on how to do so.

\- I'd be glad to... - Frollo said cautiously.

\- That's wonderful news, my friend! You could stay here as a member of the court and we would organize a series of meetings, you would supervise the entire process! And maybe get some sun on that pale skin of yours, and some fine wine in those skinny bones! - the King laughed again, clearly satisfied by the way things were turning out.

But Frollo didn't feel like laughing at all. His gut was wrenched with anxiety and fear. He didn't want to leave Paris. He didn't want to leave his home, and most importantly, he couldn't leave Esmeralda. He knew he couldn't refuse a direct order from the King, but so far, the monarch was apparently just posing an option. He would have to do his best to convince him otherwise.

\- Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I don't see the need to change my location in order to supervise your project. I believe it can be done from Paris, like other matters I have managed from there in the past. This way, I would be able to continue my labor as a Minister of Justice and guardian of the city. I would serve you twice as much.

\- Oh, but isn't that too much work? - the King protested. - You're not getting any younger! - he said in a condescending tone.

\- I'm not much older than yourself. - Frollo replied, and he immediately realize the harshness of his words. - And you're doing an incredible job ruling an entire kingdom. - he added, trying to correct his mistake. - I believe I would be able to do just a fraction of that amount of work, with good results.

\- Of course you would. - the King responded, not taking any offense in his words. - But that doesn't mean you should! You've worked so hard all these years, you've served me and this kingdom enough for two lifetimes. You deserve to slow down and enjoy life a little. - he winked at the judge with a crooked smile.

\- I enjoy a life of working in behalf of France. - the judge said, trying to sound convincing.

Suddenly, the King's smile vanished completely. He closed his eyes and frown, looking unexpectedly upset. Frollo watched him as his heartbeat accelerated again. He didn't know what had triggered the King's discomfort but he sensed he was about to get to the bottom of it. The real reason why he had been summoned urgently.

The King sighed, and he walked to the table to leave his empty cup. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as he made little exasperated sounds.

Frollo waited impatiently for him to say something, but the monarch seemed reluctant to speak. The man paced back and forth across the room, and finally, he turned at him.

\- I wanted to do this the easy way, Frollo. - he said, defeated.

\- What is it, Your Majesty? - Frollo asked, with a scratchy voice.

\- You're a good man, I know you are. You have been a faithful servant to this kingdom, hardworking and just, ever since I made you Minister of Justice. You're intelligent, wise, and pious. And above all of this, I considered you a friend. I thought the honor was mutual.

\- It is, Your Majesty. - Frollo assured, with a knot in his stomach.

\- Oh, but is it? - the King shook his head, visibly dissapointed. - Friends are supposed to be honest with each other. Friends don't keep important secrets for years.

Frollo was puzzled. He thought this would be about Esmeralda, about the gypsies, about everything in the past couple of months. But the King was talking about something else.

\- I don't know what you're talking about, Your Majesty. - he said genuinely.

\- You don't recall forgetting to mention any important detail from your life, Frollo? - the King asked, and for the first time, there was actual anger in his voice.

The judge stared at him blankly.

\- Imagine my surprise and disbelief when my emissary came back from Paris bearing such incredible news as you having a son.

The King's words hit him like a slap in the face. Quasimodo? How had Lefebvre found out about that? Barely anyone in the city knew of their connection, though there were rumors. But he knew Lefebvre wouldn't risk his reputation by spreading rumors unless he knew for a fact they were true. The only people who knew for sure were himself, Quasimodo (who hadn't met the emissary at all), the gypsies (same applied) and… the archdeacon.

\- Of course the archdeacon of Notre Dame assumed you would have notified your King of such a significant event in your life. - the monarch said, reading his thoughts.

\- Your Majesty… - Frollo began, though his mind still was reviewing the entire emissary's visit trying to figure out when he had had the chance to speak with the archdeacon alone._ "It was at mass" _he realized. When he had re-entered the cathedral after Esmeralda. It had been only two minutes! How could two minutes change the course of his life so much?

The King was staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

\- It happened twenty years ago. You must know he's not my biological son. I adopted him, but he doesn't even live with me at the palace, but at Notre Dame. I just make sure he has something to eat, there's nothing more to it. And it's never affected my duties. - he felt terribly wrong by diminishing his relationship with Quasimodo, but he knew it was for the best, and, for better of worse, their relationship had already come to an end.

\- You're not on trial for having a son, Frollo. Your personal matters are God's concerns, not mine. But you lied to your King.

\- I just didn't thought it was necessary to bother you with…

\- Stop. Please stop. - the King raised his hands. He looked at him, and Frollo could see he was actually hurt. - I wanted to do this the easy way. I respect you, and I want the court to respect you as well. I had hope you would accept my offer of moving here, and taking care of the gypsies project under my supervision. That way, no one would have to know what you did, your reputation would remain intact and action would have been taken. Everyone would be happy. But you've left me no choice, damn it! - he punched the table with his fist.

Frollo held his breath, waiting for his next words.

\- I can't pretend this didn't happen. And even if I could, Lefebvre already knows about it. I asked for his discretion, so no one else in court finds out, but I can only assume he told his brother too. So what kind of King would I be if I continued to trust a man who lied to me for twenty years, with the Ministry of Justice and our beloved city of Paris? I would lose their respect, and soon all the court would know.

The judge knew it was true. His mind went still. There was nothing else he could argue.

\- I have no choice but to destitute you from your Minister's position. Tomorrow I will announce Gaspard Lefebvre as my new Minister of Justice and protector of Paris. He will move to the Palace of Justice and resume your labor there, including the gypsy negotiations with Esmeralda. I'm very sorry, Frollo. I wish it hadn't come to this.

\- It's alright, Your Majesty. - Frollo said, with an empty tone and absent eyes.

There was no ounce of strength left in him to fight. He should have seen this coming a long time ago, but he had been too focused on his personal matters that he had missed the evidence. Lefebvre had always been after his position. Finally becoming a noble member of the kingdom, owning his title, his palace, and above all, his social position. The emissary's visit was never intended to prove the King everything was under control, but to gather useful information for his own plan.

He had played his cards well. And he had won.


	49. The Threat

_ "It's just a dance" _Esmeralda told herself, doing her best to smile at Lefebvre while Frollo walked away.

The emissary grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, a little too vigorously, which made her throw him an inquiring look. So far, the man had behave with exquisite manners, though it was obvious to her that his movements and words concealed a pressing desire. But she had always felt confident that he wouldn't dare to make a move or act on said desire as long as she didn't invite him explicitly to do so.

However, there was a different determination in his eyes now, as if he knew that it was only a matter of time until he got what he wanted. And that sent a shiver down her spine.

\- I could use some water, I'm actually thirsty! - she commented casually, assuming he would rush to get her a glass.

But instead, he tightened his grip.

\- I'm a little tired of dancing. - she insisted, this time with a more serious tone.

\- Oh, this is a slow dance, my dear, worry not. - Gaspard replied, as the music slowed down so conveniently that she wondered if he had somehow instructed the musicians to do so.

His breath smelled of ale, and the fact that she could smell it meant he was definitely too close. However, she looked around and realized with despair that apparently, that was the correct distance for that sort of dance.

So she took a deep breath and decided to just go along with it. The sooner it happened, the sooner it would end.

\- I can see why you were so fascinated with life in the royal court. - she said, trying to distract herself with conversation.

\- You see? - Lefebvre nodded approvingly. - This is the lifestyle that suits a young, elegant woman like you.

\- I am happy with my life in Paris, though. - she stated, politely but firmly.

\- I'm glad you are. But it is always good to leave some space for the winds of change to blow.- he commented, and she could sense that his seemingly casual words were hiding a lot of meaning.

\- I'm not sure I understand what you mean. - she said tentatively.

\- Well, let's just say… when things are stuck for long, they begin to rot. It's only natural.

\- And what exactly would you say it's rotting? - she asked, getting irritated by his enigmatic disposition.

\- Oh, that's not for me to venture… It is our King who must determine the need for fresh blood where he finds it suitable.

Though she knew it was a figure of speech, the mention of blood alongside with the quick but meaningful look he threw towards the room in which Frollo had disappeared set all her alarms on fire.

\- What's going on, Gaspard? - she asked, stopping her dance.

Her fierce eyes startled him, for up until then she had always remained in character, charming and obedient. For the first time he saw the raw force hiding inside of her, and though it caught him by surprise, it only made her more interesting.

\- Calm down, my dear. - he said in a soothing tone, caressing her arm. But she immediately pulled away.

\- I'll calm down when you tell me what's going on. - she replied, and any trace of her smile or containment was gone.

People around them noticed her rising tone, and soon they had also stopped dancing and began staring, murmuring to one another.

Gaspard noticed this and he leaned closer to her ear, so no one would hear.

\- I don't think it'll benefit you to cause a scene.

Esmeralda look around defiant. She couldn't care less about all those pretentious people, which she could tell were only interested in her for the gossip. But Gaspard was right. If something was going on, then she needed to not make it worse. So she inhaled to calm the increasing fire that was building up in her insides, and she made a great effort to smile back.

\- You're right. - she agreed, throwing Gaspard a meaningful look. - Let's keep dancing, shall we?

The emissary nodded, pleased, as he pulled her closer to him again. If she had been uncomfortable before, now his touch had become utterly disgusting to her. The man was dropping his act, and so was she.

\- I don't see what makes you so upset. - he said, in a low tone so only she could hear him. - I'm actually doing you a favor.

\- And what favor would this be? - she asked, and though she was keeping her smile for the sake of appearances, her eyes were piercing his mercilessly.

\- I'm setting you free. - Gaspard said, before taking her hand and making her swirl with the music.

\- What makes you think I'm not free? - Esmeralda replied, once she got close enough again to whisper.

\- Come on… - Lefebvre said, with a crooked smile. - You don't have to keep lying to me. I know all about you… - he leaned closer, and his lips touched her ear when he added. - and Frollo.

Esmeralda's blood froze inside her veins. She fought back a gasp, trying hard to remain calm and not give away her shock.

\- What? What do you mean? - she asked with an innocent tone.

\- Come on Esmeralda. I just told you, there's no need to keep lying. - he stared into her eyes, and in that moment she knew for certain that he indeed knew all about them.

He watched her face shift from fake confusion to furious defeat. - Exactly. - he nodded, satisfied.

\- How? - she inquired, with her jaws clenched.

\- You know… one of the good things of having humble origins is that you always remember were you came from. - Gaspard said enigmatically. - Those who are born nobility take many things for granted. Their eyes have developed certain blindness towards what they consider rightfully theirs. Their properties, their luxuries… and their servants. They never seem to recall that the servants are alive and aware individuals, you see? - he said, delighting himself in every word. - But they are… and they are the first source of information about what's going on in a palace, for they have ears and eyes everywhere. But they're usually overlooked.

A cold layer of sweat was covering her entire body. She had always been kind to the servants, she was well aware of their humanity. But it was true that she hadn't stop to consider that they could became a threat.

\- Some people at your Palace of Justice aren't very pleased with the way they're treated or things are done.

\- Magdalene. - she muttered, almost involuntarily.

\- Yes, your housekeeper in particular. - Gaspard confirmed with a grin. - It only took a little gentleness on my side and she became an open book. She was eager to tell me all about the Minister's erratic behavior lately, ever since he met that street dancer… and got infatuated with her.

Esmeralda looked at him horrified. She knew Magdalene didn't like her, but she never imagined she would be able of such betrayal to her master.

\- That's right. I know exactly who you are,_ gypsy diplomat_. - the emissary stated triumphant.

However, there was something weird in all this.

\- You didn't tell the King. - she realized. - Why?

\- I'm not one for gossiping. - Gaspard said, and she frowned with skepticism. - If I had told him that, Frollo would be hanging for treason by tomorrow.

The lightness in which he stated that made her feel like throwing up. She inhaled sharply, trying to calm her stomach.

\- Isn't that what you want? Haven't you always wanted to destroy him? - she accused him bitterly.

\- God, what kind of man do you think I am? - he replied, offended. - I don't seek Frollo's demise. I just wanted to make sure that the city of Paris and the ministry of justice are in the proper hands.

\- Let me guess, those hands are yours.

\- According to the King, they are. - his smile widened, as he shrugged like his manipulations hadn't had anything to do with it. - Once he was able to see that, I had no need to ruin Frollo's reputation even more. He dug his own grave. So to speak.

\- You disgust me. - Esmeralda spat, letting go of his hands and ready to leave in search of the judge.

\- Not so fast. - Gaspard said, grasping her arm despite her warning look. - There's still something else to discuss.

\- What else could you possibly want? You already got your way, didn't you? - she asked, trying to release her arm from his grip.

\- There's still something I desire. - he stated, throwing her a meaningful look.

\- Oh, not in your wildest dreams! - she replied, repulsed.

\- Hmm… that's interesting. - he seemed to ponder. - Maybe I still have a conversation pending with the king after all.

She looked at him horrified, with her mouth open in disbelief.

\- What…? - she said, unable to find the right words to describe her disgust. - So_ that _is the kind of man you are?

\- Hold on a second. I don't know what you're picturing, but I'm a man of honor. - Lefebvre stated, apparently offended.

\- So tell me then! What should I picture?

\- Here's the thing. - Gaspard began, finally revealing his deepest intentions. - You will come back to Paris with me, as a gypsy diplomat or whatever you want to call it. You'll do your part. And, not long from now we'll announce our engagement. I won't disrespect you like Frollo does. I intend to marry you before anything else happens between us.

\- How honorable of you!- she yelled, with tears of rage in her eyes. The crowd around them stared once again, but the emissary smiled and guided her through the people towards a more discreet spot in the room. Esmeralda followed him numbly, her head was spinning with dread.

\- You should be careful with your next steps, Esmeralda. - the emissary warned her in a low tone. - I am willing to treat you the way you deserve, but I'm no fool. I just told you what would happen to your beloved judge if I decide to come to the King with what I learned about his actions. He broke his vow to the King. If word gets out, our Majesty will have no choice but to execute him. He should have thought twice before taking a vow of chastity when he got his position… I will never understand why he would chose to do so, but I must admit it worked on my behalf. - he said with mockery.

\- No one forced him to take that vow! - Esmeralda argued with desperation. - He took it freely and he is allowed to change his mind!

\- It doesn't work like that, when you're a member of the court, your word is your most important asset. If you break it, you're betraying the King.

Tears began rolling down her cheeks. It was all her fault. She had gotten into Frollo's way and now she had made him lose everything he cared about. She should have never gone after him. She should have left the city and never looked back. But...maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she could still get out of his way.

\- If you're considering running...- Gaspard warned her, as if he was reading her mind. - You must know I will also tell the King the truth if you do. If you're not going to be with me, I have nothing to gain from my silence.

\- You bastard, son of a ….

\- Hush now. - he warned her again, as there were some curious observants not so far away.

\- I'd rather die than marry you.- she muttered, between her gritted teeth.

\- Would you rather Frollo to die, than marrying me? - he replied.

She stared at him, with such an intense hate it could have melted stone. But finally, she shook her head, defeated.

\- That's what I thought. - he stated, proud. He came closer to her, his hand wiped away the tears from her cheek. - Don't you worry, my dear. Everything will be okay. I believe we can be really happy, if you cooperate.

\- What must I do? - she asked, her heart completely broken.

\- As I said, you will come back to Paris with me. You will play your part, granting me your company when it is requested, and agreeing to our engagement soon. Once we're married, you will fulfill your marital duties. I hope by then you'll have learn to appreciate what a younger, stronger man can offer. - he said, with a repulsive smile.

She once again stared at him in disgust, but she didn't argue.

\- Needless to say… your sinful relationship with Frollo ends now. If I ever suspect you two are meeting alone again, I will…

\- Go to the King. - she finished his sentence.

\- I see you're finally getting it. - he applauded her.

\- What if Frollo comes clean first? - she said, suddenly hopeful. - Maybe he will confess and the King will forgive him.

\- Now why on earth would he do that? - Gaspard inquired with mockery.

\- He would do anything to protect me. - she stated, defiant.

\- Oh, but that's the thing, my dear. Of course, you're not allowed to tell him any of this. Wasn't that clear? - he asked with fake concern.

\- What? I'm not even allowed to tell him why I leave? To say goodbye?

\- Think of it like this… - the emissary suggested. - If you don't say anything, you're not only protecting him from himself… (because, don't be foolish, the King would never forgive such treason even if he's the one to confess)… But you're also making it easier on him to move on. He would think you just changed your feelings once you realized you could do better than him.

\- Please… - Esmeralda broke down crying. - Please don't do this. - she begged, all her pride scattered on the floor.

She could deal with giving up her life or freedom for the ones she loved. She had been willing to do it for her family and now she was willing to do it for Frollo.

But she couldn't stand the thought of Frollo believing his worst fears had come true. Believing she had never truly loved him. Thinking everything had been a lie and she had traded him for the man who had ruined his life. It was too cruel.

\- You know my terms. - Gaspard said coldly. The sight of her crying only made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to have to deal with female excessive emotions right now. He wanted to focus on his bright future. - Will you take them or not?

She wanted to murder him. For a second she looked at the nearest table, looking for a knife big enough to put it through his heart. She cursed the absence of her usual dagger, which was safely guarded in her luggage God knows where in that labyrinthine palace.

But soon her mind caught up with her impulses. Murdering a court member was probably no better than breaking a vow to the King. And the consequences were probably the same. There was nothing she could do. Not for now, at least. She wasn't going to give up, until she found a way to get rid of the emissary and tell Frollo the truth. But, until then, she would have to play his game.

\- Alright. I do. - she yielded at last.

\- Wonderful. - the emissary said, mimicking the King's tone. - That's just wonderful. Worry not, my dear. I promise you the rest of our lives will be great.


	50. The Note

_**1 month later**_

The sun sneaked into Frollo's bedroom through a tear in the curtains. For a second, the light made him rise from his bed, fearing he had overslept and was going to be late. Also for an instant, his hand unconsciously reached for the other side of the bed, looking for her warm skin, to let her know he was leaving for work.

And then it all came back, as if an iron anvil had been dropped on his chest.

The heavy realization pushed him back into the pillows. His hand gave up his search and instead, covered his own face, as he tried to gather his thoughts.

It was early April. It had been a month since they traveled to the King's Palace. An entire month since that fateful weekend, and still, his mind seemed to be unable to assimilate his new reality. Every day when he woke up, the same scene happened, over and over again. Those seconds of confusion, of cruel oblivion before the truth rushed back into his heart like water from a broken dam.

And then, the dreadful weight of it, crushing his chest for the rest of the day, before the merciful night took it from him, only to drop it back in the morning.

It was still early, but he knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep, so he resolved to get up anyway. He walked to the window and threw a displeased look at the old, threadbare curtains. They had been clearly neglected for years, as the rest of his small chamber. The bed was tolerable, but the furniture were scarce and ugly. The fireplace was tiny, just enough to keep the room somewhat warm. He missed his old chamber, his old things. But he wouldn't have mind spending the rest of his life sleeping in that seedy place if Esmeralda had been there with him.

When the King had announced him that he would be stripped off his charge as Minister of Justice, as much as it hurt his ego and self-esteem, his heart had remained hopeful. He knew that the King felt guilty about causing him pain, and he was determined to use that guilt to minimize the damage. So he had managed to convince him that it was best if he returned to Paris with Lefebvre and Esmeralda, as an adviser for Lefebvre on his newly acquired position. He also told the King about Quasimodo's situation, how his unfortunate circumstances made it better for him to stay at Notre Dame, and how he was the only family the lad had. He conveniently avoided mentioning that Quasimodo had made it very clear that he never wanted to see him again. Frollo appealed to the King's compassionate nature, asking him for his permission to return home, and assuring him that he would take care of any gypsy business from there. It didn't took much convincing for the King to yield to his petition.

So next morning, when he announced Lefebvre's naming to the court, he also explained that Frollo would become his adviser. The King didn't mention anything about the motives for his decision, to spare Frollo's reputation in front of the court members. He just gave a brief explanation about the importance of family and how Frollo was a valuable member of the community in Paris.

Lefebvre's face paled when he heard that Frollo would be coming back to the Palace of Justice with them, but he was quick to react. Quoting the King's argument about family, the emissary asked for permission to bring his brother along with them as well. The King was baffled by his petition, given that Gérard Lefebvre was the Captain of his guard, and not easily replaceable. But the emissary played his cards well, as usually, and eventually his request was also granted.

If Gérard was happy or dissapointed about it, they could never tell, for the man's expression rarely changed. He just obeyed the instructions given and prepared himself to move out.

On the other hand, it was evident for Frollo that Esmeralda was miserable. He wanted so badly to be able to explain what was going on, for when he finished his conversation with the King and returned to the Main Hall, she was already gone. They hadn't had a chance to talk privately since they had arrived at the palace, except that brief moment during their dance. And with the new circumstances, he wasn't sure of when they would. Gaspard seemed determined to not let her out of his sight, and for some reason, Esmeralda wasn't presenting any opposition to that. It was frustrating, but Frollo decided he would be patient, for surely they would be able to talk once they were back at their own palace.

But the chance never came.

Gaspard Lefebvre was used to making the best out of whatever situation he was dealt, so he soon realized that Frollo joining them in Paris could actually be a good thing. Since his role as "adviser" had not been properly determined, Gaspard used his upper position to deviate any unpleasant parts of his new job to the judge. Which turned out to be most of his job. He only showed up in public situations or events, or meetings with important people in the city. The rest of the work relied upon Frollo. The commoner hearings and complaints held no appeal to Lefebvre, who had no interest in serving the people, and only cared about the recognition.

The same way he had assigned Frollo with his boring duties, he relied on his brother to come up with a new set of rules for the city, and specially the gypsies. The apparent interest he had faked at court towards the gypsy negotiations was now gone, and in its place his real feelings of despise had taken over. His brother seemed to share those feelings, or even worse, for apparently he didn't only hate gypsies but people in general. The rules quickly hardened under his supervision, and the citizens soon became afraid of the soldiers that were meant to protect them, for they had been given a free pass to apply every and any repression necessary whenever they saw fit. It was only when administrating those punishments that Gérard Lefebvre displayed any sort of positive emotion.

Besides his duties as Captain of the guard, Gaspard assigned his brother the mission of being Esmeralda's bodyguard. She uselessly tried to explain that she didn't need, nor want, a bodyguard. But it was clear to her that her constant vigilant was only there to make sure that she never got alone with Frollo. Not even at night, when he would assign one of his soldiers to guard her chamber's door to make sure she didn't sneak out.

But the worst part wasn't that she couldn't see Frollo in private… the truly heartbreaking part was that she was forced to spend time with him every day during the meals, with Lefebvre by her side, getting closer and closer each passing day. And though Frollo did his best to hide it, she could see how much it tortured him. And so could the new Minister. Gaspard Lefebvre had thought he didn't care about Frollo as long as he was out of his way, but he was realizing a newfound pleasure in watching the man silently struggle under his command. He soon decided that the main bedroom should belong to the current Minister, himself, so he ordered Frollo to gather his things and move to one of the small chambers for guests in the ground floor. He had also requested the key to the library, though he didn't care at all for books or music. He just wanted to make sure he was the master of the palace now.

Frollo's only small comfort was in the fact that Gaspard had been unable to control his horse. Snowball had repeatedly rebelled against the man, and eventually Lefebvre had given up and chosen another horse from the stables as his official mount.

But this little pleasure was nothing in comparison to the pain he felt whenever he saw Gaspard taking Esmeralda's hand, calling her "my love", and above all, the heartbreak he felt when she didn't stop him.

For a month, he had reminded himself every moment of every day, of all the times she had asked him to trust her. And the truth was, he did. Even if he couldn't understand what was going on. Even if it had been torture watching them together… He trusted there ought to be some reason behind it all. The way she looked at him whenever Lefebvre got distracted, even if she didn't say a word, kept his hope alive. Maybe she had a plan. Maybe he just had to wait.

But days kept passing by and nothing changed, and as much as Frollo wanted to trust her, his faith was beginning to falter.

His last hopes were set on that evening's dinner. Last week, Gaspard had announced the servants that he intended to host a social gathering that day, where the most important people in Paris would be present. He had been quite mysterious about the reasons behind the reunion, but Frollo didn't care. All he could think was that maybe, with the noise and mess of the party, he could get a moment alone, or at least with some privacy, with Esmeralda, so she could explain what the hell was going on.

With that hope, he left his chamber and walked to the dining room for breakfast, preparing himself to face Lefebvre's disgusting displays of affection.

\- Good morning, judge. - Lefebvre greeted him when he entered the room. Esmeralda and him were already sitting at the table.

\- Good morning, your honor. - Frollo responded, though those words still tasted bitterly in his mouth. - Esmeralda.

\- Hello. - she said, with a brief smile, though her eyes were filled with sadness.

Frollo usually ate in silence, trying to distract himself from their presence there, while Gaspard talked loudly about his plans for the city or shared stories from his past with Esmeralda, who smiled and nodded absently. However, the atmosphere today was slightly different. He couldn't tell why, but Gaspard seemed eager to engage him into the conversation.

\- So, Frollo… you know Mr. Flamcourt will be attending our dinner tonight.

\- I figured so, yes. - Frollo said, without raising his eyes from the plate.

\- His business is going so much better since he was allowed to charge for the rooms he was forced to give away for free. - Gaspard commented casually.

\- I doubt the miller could tell you the same thing. - Frollo replied, lowering his tone. He was aware that he had been the one responsible for those families losing their homes in the fire, but he had also made sure they had proper accommodations after that. Even if he wasn't a people's person, he did care about the people in Paris, so it bothered him enormously, the lack of compassion or even justice in Lefebvre's decisions.

\- Well, it is a cruel world, isn't it? - Lefebvre responded, with no trace of remorse. - No one handed anything to us either, and look at where we got.

Frollo didn't respond. One of the things that made him think something really weird was going on was the fact that Esmeralda hadn't complained about Lefebvre's unfair rulings ever since they got back. He knew her well enough to know she would fiercely defend what she thought was right, specially if it involved people who couldn't defend themselves, in whatever situation. So the fact that she was silent about all of this was a very bad sign.

Just when these thoughts were reassuring Frollo that Esmeralda knew something he didn't, Lefebvre's next words crushed his hope brutally.

\- Well, we wanted it to be a surprise… But since you seem so concerned about the citizens, I'll tell you I'm sure they will rejoice with the news of our engagement tonight. Nothing like a wedding to lighten up the mood, right my dear? - the emissary said joyfully, grabbing Esmeralda's hand, though his eyes scrutinized Frollo's face to not miss any single detail of his suffering.

But Frollo didn't look at him. His gaze went straight to Esmeralda. _Engagement?_ That's what the party was all about? She was going to _marry_ him?

Esmeralda didn't look at him. She smiled at Lefebvre, and murmured "Right", with a small nod.

Her simple affirmation felt like a death sentence to the judge. He suddenly felt so stupid, so naive. All this time he had been thinking she had a plan, that it was only a matter of time until she would share it with him and they could both fix this horribly wrong situation. He had trusted her. He had kept thinking she loved him. He had been seeing signs of hope, all while she planned her engagement to the new minister of justice. He remembered the bandits on their journey, how they had been sure that she was with him only for his position. Had it all been a lie, a manipulation? Was she the dark witch he had thought her to be right at the beginning, only sent to destroy him? His gut and head were spiraling so heavily he felt he was going to pass out. From the outside, he just seem paralyzed. Lefebvre wasn't sure as to which extent Frollo was affected, so he decided to add some pressure to it.

\- I will have a gold ring made for you, my dear. - he said charmingly, stroking Esmeralda's fingers. - It will look glorious on your skin.

She just smiled politely. Inside, her heart was bursting into a million pieces with the urge to scream, to run towards Frollo and explain everything. But she had found no solution, as much as she had thought about it, and she wasn't willing to risk Frollo's life. She was beginning to fear that there was nothing to be done.

\- I never asked you about this other ring. - Gaspard's tone suddenly changed, as his smile disappeared. He had noticed the sapphire ring she was wearing on her other hand.

Those words made their way through the dense fog that had clouded Frollo's mind, regaining the judge's attention and bringing him back to the dining room.

\- Oh… - Esmeralda said, apparently surprised. - Yes… this was a gift from my father. - she said simply.

\- Maybe it's not very appropriate…. To be wearing another man's ring when you get engaged? - Lefebvre asked tentatively.

\- Well… as I said, it was from my father, who recently passed away. I wear it as a reminder of the man I have loved the most in my life. - she stated firmly.

Frollo's heart jumped inside his chest. Though she hadn't looked at him, she didn't need to. He understood the hint immediately. He knew she wasn't talking about her deceased father.

Whatever was going on, she wanted him to know she loved him.

However, he wasn't sure that was enough anymore. Even if it was true, he wouldn't be able to withstand witnessing their wedding and living under the same roof during their marriage.

It was too much.

Frollo made a decision. He wouldn't stay in Paris. He would go back to the King's Palace and offer his services there. He would say Lefebvre had adjusted just right to the position and was no longer in need for an adviser. He was sure the King will welcome him warmly into his court.

He knew Lefebvre would be busy during the day with the preparations for the evening party. So, after breakfast, he would gather his most important belongings, take his horse, and leave for good. As much as he loved Esmeralda, or precisely because of it, leaving was his only option to not end up insane.

\- Your Honor. - he said, breaking the silence. Gaspard looked at him, eager to get a reaction, so he was disappointed when instead Frollo said calmly : - I have some matters to discuss with the farmers outside of the city. If it's okay, I will leave for the day.

\- Can't it wait? - Lefebvre asked, thinking Frollo was trying to avoid having to attend the evening party.

\- I will be back before sunset. - the judge assured, reading his mind.

\- Alright then. - the minister quickly agreed. - Your presence tonight is very valuable to us. - he added, with a wide smile.

However, Esmeralda noticed Frollo's calm and realized he ought to have something in his mind, some sort of decision that granted him the certainty that he wouldn't have to suffer through their engagement and wedding. She remembered the time she had found him laying on the dungeon floor, and fear began to creep inside her. She knew Frollo could be very drastic when he thought there was no other way.

\- Forgive me, please. - she said out of the blue, getting up from her chair. - I need to get some air.

\- Are you alright? - Gaspard asked, getting up as well.

\- Yes, my dear, don't worry. - she said, though her voice was strangled. - Please, finish your breakfast, I don't mean to interrupt. I'm just lightheaded… - and then, in a surge of inspiration, she added. - It must be feminine stuff.

Those words worked their magic, and Lefebvre quickly sat down, nodding.

\- Of course, do what you must.

\- Thank you. Forgive me. - she said again, and she walked out.

Gérard Lefebvre was standing by the door. As much as his brother insisted, he refused to eat with them, and instead ate with the soldiers in the small room by the kitchen. However, he would stand there during the meals, making sure everything was under control. He got ready to follow Esmeralda, but Gaspard ordered him to stay, trying to give her some privacy. After all, Frollo was still at the table, so there was no risk of them secretly meeting. Gérard hesitated for an instant, but finally decided to obey, returning to his position.

Frollo finished eating in a blur. His mind was already out of there, out of Paris entirely. The city he had loved so much, now he couldn't wait to leave behind. He was only sorry that he wouldn't get to see Esmeralda one last time, for she had left in such a rush. But actually, _what difference would that make?_

Finally, breakfast was over. He said goodbye to Lefebvre, fighting the urge to tell him to rot in hell before leaving for good.

As he had planned, he gathered his few important belongings and stuffed them on a leather bag. There were so many items he wished he had retrieved from his library or his room down in the dungeons… but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did. He just needed to get out of there.

Snowball greeted him with a soft neigh. Frollo stroke his neck affectionately. Who would have thought, the animal would be the last loyal friend he would have left. His long fingers combed the black, horse mane, as he breathed deeply, feeling for an instant the weight of his grief for all he was about to forsake.

Then, his fingers suddenly stumbled upon something weird. He moved the horse's hair aside, and he found a small piece of parchment rolled and hidden among the dense fur of Snowball's mane.

Puzzled, Frollo carefully removed the parchment, and opened it. Inside, written with what seemed to be carbon, there was a single instruction: _"Meet me here after the party". _

He didn't need a signature to recognize Esmeralda's handwriting.


	51. The Wait

Esmeralda looked at herself in the mirror. She stared deep into her own eyes, but she was almost unable to recognize herself.

_How had she ended up in this place? In this position? _

It almost felt like it was all a bad dream, a nightmare from which she would wake up any moment now, opening her eyes in her tent in the Court of Miracles.

But, as much as she tried, her eyes kept opening in the mirror in front of her, in that dark chamber, inside that dark palace, within her dark new life.

She missed her family so much. She missed arguing passionately with Clopin knowing that nothing would break them apart, and that there was nothing that some music and dancing couldn't solve. She missed the sound of the children laughing and playing around, while their mothers chattered lively. She missed that warm feeling of community.

And still, she had been willing to give it all up for something she missed even more. Ever since she had met Claude, she had felt the belonging she had been craving her entire life. She had felt more herself than ever. And she had loved like she didn't know was possible.

But now she had lost both of her lives, only to become a prisoner to a ruthless, conniving man who intended to make her his trophy wife. Who wanted her to stay silent and pretty while he lived at the expense of the innocent people of her city. As she had told him in that dreadful dance night, she would rather die.

But she had already costed Frollo too much. She couldn't be guilty of his death as well. Let alone a death without honor, executed for treason. She had hoped that Frollo would leave, leave Paris and her, so he wouldn't have to suffer waiting for a solution that didn't seem possible.

However, when she saw his determination at breakfast, and she suspected he was planning on leaving, it wasn't relief what filled her heart, but terror. She knew in that moment that if he left, she would lose the little will to live she had left. It were those brief, fleeting moments in which their eyes met during a meal, the only fuel that kept her heart pumping. Feeling that somehow, their connection still prevailed over anything that had been thrown their way. But if he left… the bond would be broken.

So she had been selfish, and she had decided to write him a note, blessing Quasimodo with all her heart for teaching her how to write, now that she was unable to communicate with him any other way. She didn't know if Frollo would find it. She didn't know if it would change his mind. And, if she was to be a good person, she should wish he didn't. That way, he would be safe. But the truth is, she wanted him to find it, and to wait for her. Even if that meant, telling him something that could lead to his demise. What kind of person did this make of her?

Anyway, Frollo had said he would be gone for the day, so she wouldn't know until the engagement party if he had chosen to leave for good or he had returned to the Palace and waited for her.

Esmeralda took a deep breath, and she looked up, to the dark ceiling, hesitant.

\- I don't know if you can hear me… or if you're even there. - she whispered, feeling at once stupid and hopeful. - I don't know if you would listen to a gypsy's prayer… But if you won't do it for me, do it for him. He's been faithful to you his entire life. God, please… help us. I trust you know better than I… for I don't know. - tears began to make her vision blurry. - I truly don't know what's best right now… But if you're there, then you brought us together. So please… don't abandon us now.

For an instant, she waited for a sign. A surge of light, or a silent whisper. Anything.

But nothing happened.

Maybe there was no one listening. Or maybe whoever was, didn't care about them at all. She would never know.

She sighed, defeated, and turned around towards the door.

Her engagement party awaited her.

* * *

It was the longest day of his life.

Frollo wandered outside of the city with his horse, he walked along the river, he sat under the trees. He had told Lefebvre that he had matters to attend until sunset, so that gave him a few hours to decide. His small luggage was tied to Snowball's saddle. If he chose to leave, he could do it now and he wouldn't have to set foot in the palace again.

Part of him desperately wanted to see Esmeralda that night. To hear something that would change everything, something that gave him an option. But he was also terrified that the secret meeting was nothing but a way for her to alleviate her guilt over choosing someone else, just one private goodbye for the sake of what they had been, before heading off to marry the Minister. And if that's what happened, he would regret not having left in the morning, without carrying that added wound in his already broken heart.

What were the odds? What reason could she possibly have to consent being with Lefebvre if she didn't want him? What threat could he have made? Frollo could only guess it had something to do with the gypsies, but in that case, why hadn't she told him so he could warn the King?

Maybe he was fooling himself, trying to find an unlikely reason for which she was being forced… instead of considering she wasn't.

But then again, what she said about the ring…

Frollo shook his head. There was no use in pondering. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave if there was still any trace of doubt about her still loving him. He needed to know for sure, even if that meant hearing the most heart – shattering rejection of all.

So, when the sun began going down, he pointed his horse back to the palace. For better or worse, it would all end tonight.

* * *

Gaspard Lefebvre looked like a proud peacock. His puffed chest made the buttons on his vest look like they were about to burst. His hand was wrapped around Esmeralda's wrist like an iron handcuff, making sure she didn't left his side as he showed her off like a jewel to any and every person in the room.

Esmeralda felt like a ghost, an invisible spirit trapped in a body that could only smile and nod like an idiot. No one saw her beyond her looks. No one cared or even noticed the deep sadness in her eyes. As long as her smile was on, everything looked fine to them.

As the minutes went by, her heart sunk deeper and deeper. Her eyes kept checking the door obsessively, but the only person she was waiting to see hadn't showed up.

\- My dear? - Lefebvre called her, tightening his grip on her arm to catch her attention.

\- Sorry, what? - she said, completely baffled.

\- Mrs Chauper was just wishing us a fruitful marriage. - he explained, pointing towards the woman in front of them. - And I said I can't wait to see our children's faces, don't you?

Her stomach protested violently against his words. It took her a great effort to smile convincingly, though gritting her teeth with disgust.

As the woman left, Lefebvre leaned closer.

\- You know, all these people are here to celebrate us. It's a little rude to be daydreaming right now. - he scolded her, and though his smile was condescending, his eyes looked menacing. - We wouldn't want anyone thinking there's something wrong with the bride-to-be, right?

\- Right. - she responded, feeling a boiling rage building up inside her. But once again, she was forced to repress it, and cool herself off. - It won't happen ag…. - her words vanished in the air as her stomach leaped again, but this time with joy.

Frollo had just walked in. He hadn't left! He must have found her note.

Their eyes met across the room.

He didn't noticed the way Gaspard was grabbing her arm in a likely painful way. He didn't notice how close his mouth was to her ear.

In fact, he didn't notice Gaspard was there at all. Or anyone else.

He just saw her bright, emerald eyes, shining like they hadn't in an entire month, when she saw him coming in. He just saw that wide, genuine smile of hers that was able to light up an entire room and leave everyone momentarily blind to anything else but her.

The look of pure joy and relief in her face was so palpable that any trace of doubt disappeared instantly, like it had never existed.

He didn't know how, or why, or what was going on. But he knew it was her. It was them. It had always been.

The moment was broken when someone came to greet him, but it had been enough for him to be able to stand the whole evening of socializing and listening to the engagement talk with a calm heart and mind.

This was just a charade.

When it was over, he would meet her at the stables and she would explain everything. He was sure of it.

With this certainty, the evening flew by. He even enjoyed the exquisite plates Gaspard had ordered the servants to prepare. He felt more optimistic than he had in a long time, probably since that moment right before they had been summoned by the King. It would all be alright.

Finally, a couple hours later, the last of the guests decided it was time to leave. Frollo thought fast. It was better if he used that moment, while they were saying goodbye to the engaged couple, to sneak out silently. If he waited further, Gaspard would probably want to talk to him, scold him for being late... and then it would be harder to avoid the guards, who were still inside the dining room, keeping watch on the visitors.

So without making any fuss, he subtly walked out the door, glad that neither of the Lefebvre brothers had noticed them, and he rushed to the stables. He would wait there, in Snowball's box, until she was able to get to him. She must have planned a way to escape the guard's vigilance somehow, since she had had the entire day to think about it.

The first twenty minutes were easy. He just waited there, with his mind picturing how the few people left in the Palace said their goodbyes and gathered their capes and coats to go into the dark Parisian night. Surely, Lefebvre would want to have a moment alone with his fiancee before heading off to his room, so it wasn't hard to wait another ten minutes after that.

However, when half an hour had gone by, Frollo began feeling restless. How long was this going to take? What would be her plan to avoid the guards? Maybe she wanted to wait until everyone was sleeping?

But then she wouldn't have said "after the party", but "tonight"… right?

Trust her, he repeated himself. But as much as he wanted to, as the minutes went by, the option he didn't want to contemplate came crawling back. What if she wasn't coming? Maybe she hadn't been able to ditch the guards. Or maybe… maybe she had changed her mind.

He didn't want to assume anything, but the truth was, time kept passing and there was no trace of Esmeralda, whatever the reason behind it.

Eventually, Frollo realized he had a decision to make.

His luggage was still on Snowball's back. He had left it there, just in case it came to this.

Because he knew Lefebvre wouldn't allow him to leave that easily. If he decided to go, he needed to do it secretly, so when the Minister realized his absence, he would be at least a day ahead of any messenger or soldier Lefebvre might send after him.

Frollo knew if he got to the King first, everything would work out in his favor. But Lefebvre was capable of anything to get his way, so it was crucial that he left with enough head start.

That's why that morning he had justified himself with having to spend the whole day out. But he wouldn't be able to use that excuse again for a while without raising suspicions.

So now was the perfect moment. He would have all night to ride for a long distance, and by the time Lefebvre realized he was truly gone, he would be far ahead.

He felt a sting of guilt. If he left, _wouldn't he be betraying Esmeralda?_

But then again… she was the one that had left him hanging there, waiting in a stable.

Not to mention the one getting engaged to someone else. As much as she had smiled when their eyes met, Frollo's feelings remained the same; a fleeting smile just wasn't enough for him to survive on, while he was forced to share his days with Lefebvre and the sight of them together.

So he finally made a choice. He would wait until the bells of Notre Dame rang at midnight. If she wasn't there by then, he would climb on Snowball's saddle and leave forever.


	52. The Bells

Esmeralda was so eager to get it over with, that her smile when she was saying goodbye to their last guests was genuine. She couldn't be happier that they were finally leaving.

She had already noticed Frollo silently leaving the room while Lefebvre was distracted bragging about whatever, so she knew he would already be waiting for her at the stables.

The sooner they left, the sooner she would get to him.

She had decided on selfishness, after all. She would tell him the truth, even if it put him at risk. They would figure it out together. Like they always had.

Maybe they would go to the King and come clean and beg for his mercy. Or maybe they would just run away together and hope the King's soldiers would never found them. Alright,_ that was a long shot_, she had to admit it. She knew nowhere they could go that the soldiers couldn't reach, unless they left France entirely. But they wouldn't get that far.

_Whatever,_ she shook her head. They would come up with something. Frollo would. He always did.

\- What's on your mind? - Lefebvre asked curious, and she realized she had been gesturing involuntarily.

\- Oh, nothing. - she quickly said, with a casual tone. - I was just thinking about the wedding.

\- You were? - he asked, surprised. Up until then, she had shown no interest whatsoever in any wedding stuff. Maybe she was finally warming up to him.

\- Yes! I was trying to imagine what kind of dress would I wear… - she lied, noticing this put Gaspard in a good mood. It wasn't hard now, pretending to be excited, since for the first time in a long time she actually felt optimistic.

\- Whatever it is you will look exquisite, my love. - Gaspard said, getting closer.

_Okay, maybe dim down the enthusiasm a little,_ she thought to herself, not wanting to seem too inviting.

\- Thank you. Anyway, I should be going to bed now… - she said, taking a step back with a calm smile.

Though she hadn't come up with a plan before the party, she had seen it so clearly once they were there. She knew who would be guarding her door that night, for she had memorized the shifts the soldiers took to do so. Fortunately, today it was the turn of a young, naive guard.

So, during the party, she had asked her maid to do her a very special favor. Esmeralda instructed her to go downstairs, to the dungeons, and find the room at the end of the hallway. She had prayed that the door would be open.

\- You will find lots of glass jars and bottles there. - she whispered to the maid, which at this point was the only one she could trust among the servants. At least, enough to fulfill her request without asking further questions. - Do you know how to read?

\- No, miss… - the maid replied, lowering her head with embarrassment.

\- That's okay! It's okay. - Esmeralda reassured her quickly, her mind working full speed on another solution. - Then, you must go to my chamber first. On the table, there is a piece of parchment, and a small piece of carbon. Bring them to me.

The lass nodded and left promptly.

A few minutes later she reappeared, and looked at her from afar, waiting for her instructions. She excused herself from Gaspard's side again, pretending to go near the table for food, and she quickly scrabbled a word in the parchment.

\- Here. You must look for a bottle with a label that looks exactly like this, okay?

\- And what do I do with it, miss?

\- Just bring it to me, that's all. - Esmeralda said plainly, hoping to encourage her.

The maid looked anxious, for she could tell from Esmeralda's secrecy that whatever she was doing, she didn't want her master to find out about it. But Esmeralda had always been kind to her, unlike this new Minister who had radically changed the way he treated the servants from his last visit as an emissary. So she nodded again, and left for the dungeons.

_Please, please, please,_ Esmeralda kept begging inside her heart, as the minutes went by and the maid didn't come back.

She was beginning to think she needed another plan when the young woman came out of nowhere from the crowd, like a sneaky cat, and discreetly handed her the small bottle.

Esmeralda had to fight the urge to hug her. Instead, she just gave her her warmest smile of gratitude. She looked at the label. It was the right one.

She didn't know anything about herbs, but she knew this one, for it was the one the gypsies used during childbirth to help soothe the mother's pain. She remembered seeing it on Frollo's dungeon, and recognizing the name. Thank God for the man's interest in plants!

Now all she had to do was spill the content of the bottle into her young guard's cup. Half an hour from then he would be sound asleep, and he would probably sleep through the entire night, so he wouldn't notice anything weird until the morning.

It was a piece of cake.

She just walked towards the lad, who still blushed whenever she addressed him directly, and pretended to find him very funny. Then, she asked him to help her adjust her shoe, for what he kneeled before her, handing her his cup to hold it for a second. Long enough to pour the sedative. They were in a corner of the room, covered behind a large group of people, so no one would see. By the time the man raised up again, it was done. Esmeralda thanked him with a smile, and walked away.

_By now, he will be feeling very sleepy,_ Esmeralda thought to herself, as she got ready to leave the room now everyone else had left.

\- Not so fast, my dear. - Gaspard stopped her. - I would like to have a private moment with my soon-to-be wife. - he said, with a clingy tone that made her sick.

\- Hmm I'm a little tired from the party. - she said with an apologetic smile.

\- Just have a glass of wine with me, will you?- the minister insisted.

\- Fine… - she yielded, figuring Frollo would probably understand her lateness.

Gaspard poured them two glasses of wine, though he spilled most of the content of the bottle. She realized he was quite drunk already.

\- Are you alright? - she asked, tentatively.

\- I'm perfectly fine. Now, drink up. - Lefebvre said, raising his glass in a polite gesture.

She took a sip of wine, but, as usually, she didn't like the taste of it. Gaspard observed her carefully, and then he came closer.

\- You should know… it's really hard to remain an honorable man when I have a woman like you by my side every day. - he said, lowering his tone, trying to sound seductive.

Esmeralda almost chocked on her wine. _Honorable?_ He still had the nerve to call himself honorable? After everything he was putting her through?

However, there was a more urgent concern.

\- Oh, but you said… - she tried to remind him, feeling a crippling terror climbing up her spine.

\- Yes, yes, I'm aware of what I said. And I intend to keep my word. I said I would respect you, and you're behaving certainly well. - Gaspard reassured him, though he sounded irritated.

\- Well, you'll have your wedding night then. - she said, doing her best to sound promising even though the mere thought of it made her want to throw up.

Lefebvre seemed very pleased to see her apparently willing disposition. The alcohol clouding his vision prevented him from noticing the growing tension in Esmeralda's face.

\- But for now, I think we should both get some rest.- she added, gently touching his arm to lower down the hand holding his glass.

\- You're probably right. - Gaspard agreed at last, leaving the cup on the table. - Allow me to escort you to your chamber.

\- Of course. - she nodded, glad that it was over.

Now all she had to do was ditch him and run to the stables, where Frollo was probably wondering where the hell she was.

However, once they reached the stairs, it became evident that Lefebvre's drunk state wouldn't make it an easy task to get him to his room. The man held to the railing with one hand, and he clung to her with the other.

She encouraged him as he climbed each step with exasperating sluggishness. She couldn't tell if it was her perception due to her own impatience, but it felt like at least ten minutes had gone by when they finally reached the first floor.

\- I think it's better if I escort you. - she pointed out, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

\- I'm perfectly able to get to my own room. - Gaspard replied, with his pride hurt.

\- Alright, as you wish. - she shrugged. - I'll see you tomorrow.

Then, without warning, Gaspard leaned in and kissed her. His clumsy, drunk lips moved awkwardly over hers, who was paralyzed in her spot for a second, before she violently moved away.

\- What are you doing? - she asked, furious.

\- Come on! - he protested, trying to maintain his balance after her sudden movement. - It's just a good night kiss for my future bride. Nothing disrespectful in that.

\- Go to bed. - she ordered him, trying in vain to conceal the revulsion in her face.

Finally, Gaspard turned away with a grunt, and disappeared behind the corner, though she could still hear him stumbling upon the furniture as he reached his chamber's door.

But, to her despair, she heard the voice of the young guard behind her.

\- Good night, miss. - he said, opening the door of her chamber for her.

_Damn it_, she thought. The opioid still hadn't taken him down. Though, by the look of dizziness in his face, it would soon.

\- Are you okay? - she asked, faking concern.

\- Oh, yes, yes! - the lad reassured her, shaking her head trying to regain his clarity. - It's just the wine.

\- Alright then. - she nodded, noticing the way his words slurred together. It was probably a matter of a few minutes. - Good night! - she said, entering the room and closing the door behind her.

She would give him ten minutes, just in case. She hadn't heard any movement downstairs, which meant Frollo was still outside waiting for her. Apparently, it would take all the patience in her bones until she could finally get to him. Fortunately for her, he was much more patient than she had ever been. The excitement of finally reuniting with him in private erased the disgust of Gaspard's kiss. She wouldn't mention that to Frollo. She decided to clean her face, though, just in case the judge could somehow tell.

When she was done, she wondered if maybe she should take any belongings with her, just in case they decided to run away in that same moment. She looked around the room, but all she could see now were meaningless objects. The same things she had found fascinating when she first moved into the palace, now were only trash. All she could care about was her freedom, and Frollo. There was only one thing she wanted to take with her. So she grabbed her purple blanket, and placed it over her shoulders as a cape. That was it. She was ready.

She carefully opened the door, and as she had expected, she found the young guard sleeping in the floor. She could tell by his position that he had tried to resist the urge to go down by leaning against the wall, so he had probably slid down to end up reaching a quite comical posture. She looked at him tenderly. Then, suddenly, a dark thought crossed her mind. He would be the one held responsible for her disappearance if they decided to leave immediately. Gérard Lefebvre's cruel face showed up in her mind, and she imagined the kind of punishment he would inflict on the poor innocent guard. She felt a lump in her throat, and for a moment, she hesitated. But then she remembered Gaspard's kiss, and all her doubt vanished. There was no way she could stay. If Lefebvre chose to torture this poor man, it was his sin, not hers.

Just when she was about to start moving, the silence of the night was broken by a distant, but loud sound that startled her and almost made her drop her blanket. The bells of Notre Dame were ringing for the last time that day, announcing midnight. _Was it so late already?_ She better hurry. However, her feet were glued to the floor. For some reason, she had the feeling that the sound of the bells was ominous, as if they were trying to warn her. She looked at the guard again. Maybe they were trying to stop her from leaving an innocent to a cruel fate? She listened as the last of the twelve metallic sounds reverberated across the silent streets. This was it. She needed to decide, now.

Esmeralda shook her head, trying to gather her determination, and rushed to the stairs. The image of the Captain's face began fading from her mind when she heard his voice in the dark.

\- Where do you think you're going?


	53. Blood

**Warning:** Rated M for explicit content. Reader's discretion advised.

* * *

\- Let go of me! - Esmeralda yelled, while desperately trying to release herself from Gérard Lefebvre's iron grip.

The Captain of the guard had grabbed her arm and was dragging her across the hallway, headed towards Gaspard's chamber.

\- You have no right! - the gypsy insisted furiously, but the man seemed deaf to her pleads. He wasn't even looking at her, he just pulled from her arm like she was a stubborn mule that needed to be set straight.

He opened Gaspard's door with a kick from his foot, startling the drunk Minister who was already in his bed.

\- What's going on!?- Gaspard demanded to know, unconsciously covering his body with the blankets in an attempt to protect himself.

\- I found her wandering the halls. - Gérard explained plainly.

Once his heartbeat returned to his normal rhythm, Gaspard was able to think more clearly, at least as much as the alcohol allowed him to. He got up from the bed and got closer to the couple. Esmeralda was still struggling to release her arm, which by now she was sure would be bruised for a few days.

\- Let go, brother. - he ordered, and Gérard obeyed.

Esmeralda jumped away from him, throwing the Captain a hateful look.

\- I didn't know I was a prisoner at my own home! - she accused, turning her flaring gaze to Gaspard.

\- Of course you're not, my dear. - he replied in a soothing tone. - But your safety is my first concern. You shouldn't be roaming alone at night, we don't want you getting hurt, do we?

\- Oh, you mean hurt like this? - she said, rolling up her sleeve to show him her reddened skin.

\- My brother here is used to dealing with soldiers. He must learn to restrain his strength if dealing with women. - the Minister said, with an apologetic tone.

Esmeralda snorted with indignation, still rubbing her sore arm.

\- Soldier or woman – Gérard suddenly intervened - I recognize a suspicious behavior when I see one.

\- And what exactly am I a suspect for? - Esmeralda inquired.

\- That's for you to answer. - Gérard answered coldly, looking at her for the first time, his blue icy eyes piercing hers. - Where were you going in the middle of the night?

Esmeralda thought fast.

\- I was going to see Djali.

\- _Djali_? - Gaspard repeated, confused.

\- He is my pet goat. He lives at the stables. - she explained.

\- I've never seen a goat at the stables. - Gérard said, skeptical.

\- Well, you just got here. - Esmeralda replied harshly. - Besides, he doesn't like soldiers. And neither do I. - she added, with a scoffing tone.

Gérard seemed imperturbable to any kind of insult. He remained calm and cold.

Gaspard looked absent, as if his inebriated brain was working hard to process the information. After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke.

\- Brother, you can leave us now. Thank you for your concern, but your services won't be needed anymore tonight. I got it from here. Go to bed. - he sounded gentle but firm. However, there was something about his tone that felt menacing. Dangerous.

The Captain nodded once, and without a word, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

\- You must forgive his manners. He means well. - Gaspard said in a pacifying tone.

\- Sure. - Esmeralda spat sarcastically. - I'm gonna go to bed too, I've had enough for tonight.- she said, turning around to leave.

\- Wait. - Gaspard called her, and though it was a single word, the threat on it was so palpable that her feet were stopped on their tracks.

She turned around to face him, and she could see in his eyes that he was again dropping his act.

\- What. - she asked, tense.

\- Let's imagine for a moment… - he began, softly, as he walked towards her. - that I were to ask you for an introduction.

\- What? - she repeated, puzzled.

\- I've never met this Djali of yours. What if I decided to come with you on your visit?

She sighed, exasperated.

\- I'm telling you, Djali is real. If you don't believe me, you're welcome to come with me to the stables anytime and see for yourself, you will find him there.

\- Of course, my love, but let's say it's not anytime, but right now. - he explained, getting closer. He could see Esmeralda's body stiffening involuntarily. - I'm sure we would find him there, as you say… but would he be the only one we'd find?

\- I don't know what you mean. - she said, trying to sound calm.

\- Oh, I'm sure you do. - Gaspard replied, shaking his head.

She stared at him silently. Was he just bluffing? Or did he actually know something? Her heart stopped in her chest when she saw him walking pass her and towards the door. If he caught Frollo waiting in the stables, Gaspard would probably go to the King with his secret. What were the chances that Frollo had already gave up on waiting? Was she willing to take the risk?

\- Wait! - she called, as Gaspard's hand reached for the door knob.

She didn't say anything else, but it wasn't necessary. She had just confirmed his suspicions.

\- Well, well… - Gaspard said, in a disappointed tone. His hand went down from the knob to the key, and he locked the door, putting the key on his pocket.

Esmeralda felt as if the air in the room had just become solid. She was paralyzed and unable to breathe as the Minister got closer to her again.

\- I must say, I'm dissapointed. I thought you were finally opening up to me. - he stated, still shaking his head.

She just stared at him, unable to articulate a single word. She scolded herself, urging her mind to come up with a new strategy, a way out.

\- However… I admit, it's kind of a relief as well.

\- A relief? - she repeated, baffled.

\- Yes. - Gaspard nodded, standing right in front of her. - I promised that I would respect you as long as you respected me too. But, between us, I was getting tired of that promise.

His hungry, predatory tone made all her instincts fire their alarms. She needed to get out. Now.

\- And then look at you… Sneaking around in the middle of the night with a man who is not your husband-to-be… And then lying about it! You don't seem at all concerned with the purity of your soul… so why would I? - he concluded, with a terrifying smile of triumph.

\- Please. - she begged with a strangled voice, taking a step back. - Please, don't do this.

But Gaspard moved fast. He grabbed her arm, and his other hand reached for the hair at the back of her head, so she wouldn't be able to move. Esmeralda yelled in pain, her knees weakening, though the pull from Lefebvre's hands kept her standing.

\- Don't waste your energy resisting. - he scolded her coldly. - You knew this would come eventually.

She tried to kick his shinbone, but the man turned out to be surprisingly immune to pain. For a second, she paused to consider if it was due to having shared a childhood with his cruel older brother, and what kind of abuse he might have had to endure. But this compassionate thought only lasted until the next hair pull from Lefebvre's hand, which made her eyes fill with tears.

\- Bastard! - she insulted him, using her free arm to try to scratch his face, but he kept her in such position that she couldn't reach his skin, and only teared his night clothes.

The strong Minister dragged her across the room towards the bed. Once they were there, he pushed her to fall on her back. For a second she was free, so she turned in the bed as quickly as she could, trying to get away, grabbing a pillow to hit him.

But if her kicks weren't a problem for him, the pillow hits were simply a joke. He laughed cruelly at her desperate attempts, and climbed to the bed as well, grabbing her ankle and pulling her closer again.

Esmeralda kept yelling insults, hoping desperately that a servant would hear her, but then she realized something. The problem wasn't that they couldn't hear her. The problem was they weren't coming. Once they realized the yelling came from their master's room, they wouldn't dare to go in. And even if they did, even if some female servant took pity on her, or some honorable soldier decided to intervene… the door was locked.

The weight of this realization fell upon her, leaving her suddenly numb and silent. Her change was so sudden, that Gaspard stopped for a second too, wondering if she had passed out. But her open emerald eyes looked right at his, and the deep, powerless sadness in them made him shiver inside.

_But no._ He had waited long enough. He couldn't be weak now. If he wanted to be the Minister of Justice, if he wanted to be respected, if he wanted to live up to the life he had finally achieved... he couldn't be so easily manipulated by a woman's tears. She was his. And he needed to prove himself that he was able to take her.

So he grabbed her chin and forced her to look away, so he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt of looking into her eyes. Esmeralda realized what he intended, and something inside her decided that if she was to go down either way, she would go down fighting. So she moved her head and bit the hand holding her chin.

Gaspard screamed in pain, while Esmeralda's teeth still tried to tear away his flesh. She was like a rabid animal, and when he finally managed to release his hand from the trap of her mouth, he left behind a trail of blood. The sight of her laying in bed under him, her face splattered with his blood, turned him on for some reason. Though he was furious for the pain she had caused him, he also loved a good fight.

Esmeralda felt the growth between his legs, hardening by the second, and she became hysterical. She tried to escape but Gaspard pressed his hips against hers, nailing her to her position. At this point he was holding both her wrists on her sides, but she knew he would have to move at least one of his hands to get rid of his clothes and release his manhood. That would be her only chance.

Gaspard sunk his face on her neck, his humid hot breath smelled of alcohol. She felt it on her skin, as he whispered into her ear:

\- I'll teach you manners, gypsy scum. - he let out a loud grunt as he pronounced his insult.

She tried to turn and bite his face again, but then she noticed that his hands were loosening their grip. Just when she was about to move, he laid the whole weight of his body upon her, leaving her completely immobilized. As much as she tried, he was too heavy to escape the pressure of his body against hers.

He stood still in that position for a moment, as if he was suddenly sound asleep.

Esmeralda felt something warm and wet sliding down her neck. Was he drooling on her? She felt repulsed, and again tried to move away, but she was trapped under his weight. The man was doing no effort whatsoever to hold himself up.

But then, the warm liquid on her neck became too copious to be just drool._ What was he doing?_ she wondered, equally terrified and disgusted.

Suddenly, Gaspard moved again. But he did so in the strangest of ways. His whole body raised from hers, but she could still feel his loosened arms on her sides. And then, he fell by her side on the bed.

Esmeralda looked at him, intrigued. His eyes were open in her direction, but he wasn't looking at her. She noticed the blood in his lips, and then looked at herself. Her whole neck and left shoulder were soaked in blood as well. That's what she had felt sliding down her skin.

She looked at him again, absolutely puzzled. And then, she noticed there was another stain of blood, growing fast in Gaspard's chest. She looked at his face again, and understood. Lefebvre was dead.

Her gaze raised from the Minister's corpse to the figure standing in the darkness of the room right by the bed.

There, holding a sharp dagger covered in Lefebvre's blood, was Judge Claude Frollo.


	54. The Cell

\- Are you okay? - Frollo asked with a scratchy voice, but he didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed on Lefebvre's body, though he didn't seem to be seeing it either.

\- Yes. - Esmeralda whispered, almost inaudibly.

She moved carefully to get up from the bed without touching the minister's legs. Her body was sore from the fight, now that the adrenaline was slowly decreasing inside her veins. Her hands were shaking, and she felt like she was about to pass out. She grabbed the bed post to support herself and prevent her knees from bending.

\- Claude… - she called, but Frollo wasn't moving.

He was obviously in shock. His hand was still holding the dagger so tight that his knuckles were white. His face looked gray, and he was so still that he looked as if he had turned to stone.

\- Claude. - she insisted, a little louder. Though she was still shocked herself, she was starting to understand what had just happened. And she knew they couldn't stay there much longer.

\- I killed him. - Frollo stated, with a tone totally devoid of emotion.

\- You saved me. - Esmeralda replied, reaching for his arm.

When her palm touched his robe, he finally reacted. He looked at her, and his hand let go of the dagger, which fell to the ground with a metallic sound.

\- You are okay? - he asked again, in disbelief.

\- I am. - she assured, watching his face contorting in a gesture of sorrow. - I am.

Frollo threw his arms around her and pressed her against his chest. She was suddenly blinded by his dark clothes all around her, as her face sunk into the folds of his robe. Her body was still involuntarily defensive to touch, but once she inhaled deeply and Frollo's smell filled her lungs for the first time in a month, she broke down crying. She stood there, shaking violently, as Frollo held her with all his strength, though his arms were also trembling.

He had killed many men before. But never like this. There had always been an execution, or at least a fight, some kind of battle, or duel.

But Lefebvre hadn't even seen him coming. He had just stabbed him in the back, using his knowledge on human anatomy to go right through his heart at the first and only try.

It had been plain murder. But what else was he supposed to do? If he had tried to stop him any other way, maybe Lefebvre would have had time to call for help, warn his soldiers, or hurt Esmeralda. The minute he realized what the minister was doing, he acted on instinct.

But now the Minister of Justice was dead and he was a murderer. There was no going back. And even worse… there was no way to prove what had happened, that he was trying to defend her. There were no other witnesses, and no one would believe them.

\- Esmeralda, we need to go. - he urged her, gently grabbing her shoulders.

\- Where? - she asked, her cheeks still wet with tears, that were washing down the blood in her face and neck. She looked at the door, wondering what the best way out would be. And then she noticed something. Something obvious; the door was open. - Wait. How did you get in? - she asked, puzzled. - The door was locked!

\- I kept a master key of the Palace when I handed Lefebvre the Minister stuff. I thought it might be useful. - Frollo explained, grateful to his past self for his precautions.

\- But how did you know I was here? - she inquired.

Frollo hesitated for a second, his expression suddenly became darker, and he looked away.

\- I… I waited for you. At the stables.

\- I'm so sorry! I got caught up with Gaspard and then the guard wouldn't fall asleep and then…

\- I figured. - Frollo interrupted her.

\- But? - she asked, sensing the information he was trying to keep from her.

\- But eventually I decided to leave.

\- Well, of course you did! You weren't going to stay up all night, I imagined you would be going to bed at some… wait. - she paused, when she saw his face. - When you say leave… You don't mean just leaving the stables do you?

\- No. - Frollo confirmed with a low tone. - I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't know… I'm sorry.

\- But you didn't. Leave. - she replied, staring into his eyes looking for answers. - Why?

\- It's hard to explain. I had made my decision… I waited 'til midnight, when the bells rang. And just when I was about to get on Snowball's saddle, I… I felt something.

\- What?

\- I heard you, Esmeralda… not with my ears, but … inside. - he took his palm to his chest, his eyes low with embarrassment. - And I didn't hear a word, it was more as if you were silently saying my name... Reminding me that we are one. It was just an instant but it stopped me on my tracks. And the moment I decided to trust it, a wave of paralyzing fear crashed over me and I knew you were in trouble.

\- Oh God...- she whispered, covering her mouth.

\- I just knew where to find you. And when I saw the door locked I knew you were inside. Then… Then I heard you for real. - he said, and his voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

\- And you saved me. - she intervened, trying to remind him that his actions had been justified.

Frollo shook his head, not very convinced.

\- He deserved it, Claude! You know what he would have done if you hadn't come in!

\- Don't… don't say it, please. - he begged her. - I can't even… What if I hadn't…

\- You did. - she stated firmly. - But now we have to go, before…

\- Someone finds you? - a dark voice said from the door.

Frollo instinctively hid Esmeralda behind his back, though it was evident from Gérard Lefebvre's position that he had been there for a while, for he was leaning against the door. He seemed unnaturally relaxed for someone who has just walked in on his murdered brother.

\- It was me. - Frollo declared immediately, trying to protect Esmeralda, but she quickly released herself from his arm.

\- Your brother was a monster! He attacked me! Frollo was just trying to defend…

\- I don't care. - the Captain interrupted her coldly.

She looked at Frollo, unsure of what that meant.

Lefebvre walked slowly towards them, looking intermittently at the dead body on the bed and the two figures standing beside it.

\- I knew you were lying. - he told Esmeralda, with a head gesture that indicated their previous encounter. - But I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to reveal the true place of your planned encounter. I guess I overestimated you. - he said with a shrug.

Esmeralda bit her lip, fighting the urge to respond.

\- So I decided to check the judge's chambers downstairs… And surprisingly enough, he wasn't there. I checked the other Palace guest chambers, but they were also empty.

\- Did you hear me? - Esmeralda asked out of the blue.

\- What?

\- You were inside the Palace. Everyone else is sleeping, but you were awake. Did you hear me? Screaming? - she asked, and her tone was filled with accusation and fury.

\- Whatever my brother and his fiancee do in their privacy is none of my business.

\- You bastard! - Esmeralda yelled, her eyes tearing up again with rage, and taking a step towards Lefebvre. But Frollo reacted quickly and he grabbed her arm. Fighting him now would only make things worse.

\- I don't see the problem, gypsy. - Gérard commented, pointing to Frollo. - You got your knight in shining armor after all, to save you from the big bad wolf.

She would have replied but the lightness in which Lefebvre was talking about the murdering of his brother made her realize it was useless. The man didn't care at all. At least his now dead brother, as much as he was a monster, had shown signs of feelings, of emotion. But the Captain was different. There was something really wrong with him.

\- So you're aware it was self-defense. - Frollo intervened, trying to use Gérard's admission of hearing her as a defense argument.

\- As I said before… I don't care. - Lefebvre repeated.

\- How can you not care? - Esmeralda whispered, in disbelief.

\- Dead is dead. - the man answered simply. - You murdered the Minister of Justice. You stabbed him in the back, in the privacy of his own bed at night. There's not much to discuss here, is there?

\- So what now? - Frollo asked cautiously.

\- Well, in the unfortunate absence of the former Minister, the job goes temporarily to his Captain of the guard.

\- Isn't that unfortunate. - Esmeralda muttered sarcastically with a hateful look.

\- I personally don't see the need in engaging in long, complicated trials when the evidence is so overwhelming. - Gérard continued, with his lips curving in a subtle, but blood-curdling smile.

\- The King will want a trial. - Frollo replied, trying to sound confident to hide the desperation in his voice.

\- Maybe he will. But by the time he hears about this, four or five days from now… You will already be dead. - he explained, and he did so with such calm and certainty that both Frollo and Esmeralda realized there was no possible argument. This was not a man they could negotiate with, or persuade, or even beg for mercy. His mind was made, and he visibly took pleasure in pronouncing his next words. - As the new Minister of Justice, I now hold the authority to sentence you to death. Say your goodbyes. You will both die at the pyre tomorrow.

* * *

.

* * *

When Gaspard Lefebvre had been named the new Minister of Justice, and in turn, he had named his brother the Captain of the Guard, the former captain had been degraded to just a regular soldier. However, the rest of the soldiers still treated him with special respect and obedience, for he had been a good, just leader for them for the short time he had held that position.

For the same reason, he respected Frollo even if the judge was no longer the Minister, meaning he owed him no obedience. Frollo had trusted him twice when he was unable to fulfill his duties as Minister, and the soldier appreciated his trust in giving him that opportunity.

That's why he was so disappointed when one of his soldiers woke him up in the middle of the night, informing him that the new Captain requested his presence in the dungeons, only to find out that it was Frollo who was being held captive.

\- What happened?- he inquired, raising an eyebrow towards Lefebvre.

\- The judge and his accomplice just murdered the Minister of Justice. - Gérard said plainly.

\- What? - the soldier asked in disbelief. He knew Frollo enough to know there had to be more to the story.

\- Are you deaf? - Lefebvre asked irritated. - They have confessed to the murder of my brother. I myself saw the corpse and the murder weapon. He's still upstairs if you take me for a liar. - he said, menacingly.

\- No, of course I don't, forgive me Captain. - the soldier responded, lowering his gaze to the ground in a submissive manner.

\- They will be executed for treason to the crown tomorrow at sunset.

\- Hanged? - he asked tentatively, knowing that was the established punishment for treason.

\- Burned at the stake. - Gérard informed, and the soldier could clearly perceive certain pleasure hidden in his words. He had by now noticed Lefebvre's fondness for cruelty, but delighting himself in the execution of two prisoners who were still present right there was sickening. - Anyway, I want you to guard their cells until then. Do it personally. I don't want any other stupid soldiers failing on their duties. - he stated harshly, referring to the young guard Esmeralda had managed to drug.

\- Yes, Captain. - the soldier nodded.

\- Good. - Lefebvre also nodded, and he walked to the stairs without giving his prisoners one single glance.

There was a moment of thick silence.

The former captain looked at Frollo, hesitant. He didn't like the idea of locking him up, but if Lefebvre was right, he was a murderer.

\- It's alright. - Frollo said, before he could ponder any longer. - You must fulfill your duty. I won't hold it against you. - he comforted him.

Esmeralda looked at him, astonished. Who was this calm, comforting man standing beside her?

\- Sir… I'm sorry. - the soldier said, embarrassed, as he got closer to them, taking out the cell keys from his pocket.

\- However… if there is still some trace of respect for me left in you… - Frollo said carefully. - Or at least, if you can find it in your heart to show some mercy for a dying man… I must ask something of you.

The soldier stared at him, intrigued. He didn't know if he could trust them. What if they were trying to trick him, like they had done with the other guard? What if they were still armed?

But the look on Frollo's face was genuine. And, even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was secretly glad that Gaspard Lefebvre was gone. He had always liked Frollo better.

\- What is it? - he asked, hesitant.

\- Please… - Frollo pleaded, taking a step forward. The guard immediately reacted defensively, reaching for his sword, but Frollo quickly raised his palms in a pacifying gesture. - Allow us to be on the same cell. - he said, pointing to Esmeralda.- I committed a crime and I know I must pay for it. But she didn't do anything wrong. If she's to die because of me tomorrow, at least let me spend the last hours of our lives trying to make up for it.

The soldier watched bewildered how the cold, aloof judge's eyes were bright with tears. The shock of seeing him so vulnerable, so human, was so intense that he didn't have to think about it.

\- Of course. - he murmured, still baffled. - I will make sure no one comes down here and watch the dungeon door myself.

\- God bless you. - Frollo said, closing his eyes and slowly shaking his head.

\- But I must… - the soldier hesitated again.

\- Yes. Yes. Go ahead. - Frollo agreed, getting out of the way so the soldier could open the cell door. Though it wasn't protocol, he also gave them a torch so they would be able to see each other in the darkness of the cell once the door was closed and locked.

\- Thank you. - Esmeralda said warmly, which only made the soldier feel more guilty.

\- Again, I'm so sorry… - he apologized, and he closed the door, turning the key in the lock.

They heard his footsteps walking away, and soon there was a dense silence, where only the sound of water drops falling from the humid ceiling was heard. Esmeralda couldn't help recalling her first night there. The darkness, the humidity, the smell… everything was exactly the same, but also everything had changed. She smiled sadly in the dark. The story had begun that night at the cell… and now, in a beautifully ironic turn of events, it would end the same way.


	55. Soul alchemy (II)

Esmeralda turned slowly towards Frollo. He was sitting in a small stone bench carved from the wall, hiding his face in his palms. She felt a huge lump in her throat. She was feeling so many things at once that she was unable to decide what to say. So she didn't say anything, and instead, she walked to him and sat by his side. She carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, and though he flinched slightly, he didn't move away.

Claude Frollo had never planned for his death. He had planned for every possible aspect of both his daily life and his long-term future. He had even been careful enough to consider each one of his actions planning for the right afterlife, aiming for the Heaven that the church promised him if he managed to stay away from sin.

However, for some unknown reason, whenever he had attempted to picture his own death, there was this black void, as if someone had blindfolded him to prevent him from finding out his final circumstances. He just had a subtle but powerful feeling that his death wouldn't be conventional. He knew he wouldn't die of old age, fading away in his bed from some common illness.

And now the moment had come, and he had finally unveiled his imminent final, he had to admit he wasn't surprised. His relationship with fire had been intense and meaningful his entire life. It just made sense that it would accompany him in death too. He had also executed many people at the pyre… he had come so close to burning the woman standing right beside him! So fire being the one to carry him to the afterlife was only poetic justice. And Claude Frollo had always appreciated justice.

He would have been able to settle for this end of his story, as terrifying as it was, if the circumstances were different. But the gentle touch on his shoulder was the most painful reminder that they weren't.

He finally uncovered his face and looked at the emerald eyes that waited anxiously for his reaction.

\- I'm so sorry… - he began, with a strangled voice.

\- Don't. - Esmeralda interrupted him. - Don't say it. I know what you're going to say, and I don't wanna hear it. I don't want to hear how you're sorry that you saved me. Or worse, that you met me.

\- But I am! - Frollo protested, getting up and pacing back and forth. - If it weren't for my weakness, none of this would have happened! You would still have your family, your freedom, your life! My selfishness caused all of this!

\- So what then? - she replied furiously, also getting up. - You would rather if none of this had happened? That you had never met me? That we had never…

\- No. - he said, his voice cracking with anguish.

\- I could say the same thing, you know? - she said then, crossing her arms. - I was the one who started this, that day at the festival. If it weren't for me, you would still have Quasimodo, and your job, and your life!

\- None of that was your fault!

\- Neither was it yours!

They stared at each other in silence and then suddenly Esmeralda bursted out laughing. Frollo's eyes widened in disbelief, as he wondered if she was losing her mind.

\- Are you aware – she said, still laughing. - that this is an inverse fight? We're fighting to take the blame from the other! Isn't that ridiculous? - she kept laughing, though her sound became higher and hysterical. - We're going to die in a few hours and we're fighting about why we shouldn't fight!

\- You're right. - Frollo said slowly, getting closer to her. - Let's not fight anymore. - he begged, holding her shoulders.

She hugged him tightly, and again, she allowed her tears to flow freely. His firm body was the only thing that felt real in that moment. Everything else was like a nightmare, but the fact that she was able to hug him after such a long time forced to be apart, was a dream come true. They stood like that for a long while, though it was hard to keep track of time in the darkness and silence of their prison.

Eventually, she took a step back and sat down again, inviting him to sit by her side.

\- Claude, I'm not sorry. - she murmured after a while. - Maybe I should be, I don't know. But the truth is I am not. I rather die tomorrow that never have met you.

\- I know. Me too. - he confessed, embarrassed.

\- You changed me. Or maybe you unchanged me, and you brought me back to who I always was. But either way… I wouldn't trade it for any amount of years without you. I always wanted to see the world, I thought that would make me feel alive. But this few months, with you… I found out what life's supposed to feel like. What being alive means. I could have traveled the entire world and felt lost my entire life, if it weren't for you. An early end seems like a reasonable price to pay for that. - she explained, and though there was a deep sadness in her tone, there was also a deep serenity.

Frollo listened to her words with all his senses. He felt the undeniable truth in them, and miraculously, this lifted the heavy weight of guilt in his chest. If she meant that, then he hadn't ruined her life. He had, indeed, saved it.

Life had made sure to throw all his plans to the garbage in a matter of weeks. Everything he thought he knew about himself or how things would turn out for him had changed or disappeared entirely.

So maybe he needed to reconsider his concept of a happy ending as well. Maybe it wasn't about the amount of years they would get to share, or the places they would get to see together. Maybe it was as simple as realizing that, in a crazy, cruel world, they had found each other. And saved each other. And loved each other until their final breath, dying together.

\- Oh God.- he muttered suddenly, his jaw dropping slightly.

\- What is it? - she asked, anxiously.

\- I just realized something. - he said, excited.

Esmeralda looked at him expectant.

\- Remember our conversation? Down here in my dungeon room? - he clarified, watching her puzzled expression.

\- About…?

\- Alchemy. - he said, in a triumphant tone.

\- About our souls being two parts of the same essence? - she recalled, curious.

\- Yes. That one. Remember what I told you? That the alchemists are said to have found the force that moves and creates the world, that's in the core essence of everything that exists… and that they were able to use that force to transform reality?

\- I do… -she said, though she had to make an effort to make sense of the abstract concepts he had explained to her that day.

\- I've spent my entire life trying to figure it out. I didn't want to leave this world without doing so. And now, just now, hours before my death, I finally did. - he announced proudly.

\- So? - she asked eagerly, for his enthusiasm was contagious.

\- Do you remember the two creations of the alchemist?

\- Yes. They were able to turn coal into gold.

\- Exactly. That's one. They were able to transform the darkest, simplest, matter into the brightest, purest one.

\- Aha… - she nodded, without following.

\- When we found each other… we were both in our darkest, simplest form. But look at where we got. Tonight I decided to follow an inner, invisible call coming from my heart instead of listening to logic. And before, I would have never committed a crime like I did today, losing all control, breaking all the rules, and risking my immortal soul… but I did it for you. I did it because I love you and I couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt.

\- I see. - Esmeralda said, finally catching up to him. She knew he wasn't proud of his crime, but he was referring to the deeper meaning behind it. The changes in himself that had led to it. - It was the same for me. I didn't have a chance to tell you this… don't you wonder why I was willing to marry Lefebvre? - she asked, with a sad smile.

\- Of course I do! - Frollo exclaimed, though he felt a tiny sting of fear in his gut, wondering if he would like the answer.

\- Remember when we were at the King's palace and you reunited privately with the King? When Lefebvre interrupted our dance?

\- I do. - Frollo said grimly. That was a moment he couldn't possibly forget. That conversation had changed the course of his entire life.

\- Well… when we were alone, Gaspard told me he knew about us. - she revealed.

\- What? What do you mean "about us"? How? - Frollo inquired, shocked.

\- Magdalene told him, apparently. - Esmeralda explained sadly.

\- I can't believe it… That ungrateful woman! - Frollo cursed, furious.

\- It doesn't matter now, does it? - she replied, in a conciliatory tone.

\- I guess not… I just can't understand why she would do such a thing.

\- Lefebvre had his ways of making people talk. - Esmeralda pointed out with a shrug.

\- But if he knew… why didn't he tell the King? - Frollo inquired, perplexed.

\- He didn't need to. He had already managed to convince the King to destitute you and name him Minister, which is what he was after. So he found a more useful purpose for that information.

\- You. - Frollo understood immediately. - He threatened you.

\- Not exactly. I didn't have much to lose if word got out that I was with you. But…

\- But I did. - he realized.

\- Yes. - she confirmed, lowering her head. - He told me that he would blow the whistle on you if I didn't do what he said.

\- That conniving weasel. - Frollo muttered between his gritted teeth. - If he wasn't dead already I would kill him again.

\- That's what I meant earlier, he had it coming. - she pointed out with a weak smile.

\- I'm so sorry… God, I can't imagine what you must have gone through.

\- That's what I was trying to say. - she explained patiently. - You said I changed you. Well… here I was, giving up my freedom and willing to marry a man I despised, forsaking any personal wishes of mine for the sake of protecting you.

\- You shouldn't have done that. - Frollo protested.

\- Shut up and listen, will you! - she scolded him, losing her patience. - That was wrong, I know it was! And murdering someone is also wrong. But it's not the actions that I'm looking at right now! - she took a deep breath, and lowered her tone. - We both faced our biggest fears… our darkness… for love.

Frollo realized what she was saying. She had arrived at the same conclusion as him.

\- We went from coal to gold. - he whispered, and she nodded with bright eyes.- It was soul alchemy. We figured it out.

\- Exactly. - she smiled.

And in that moment, everything else outside that cell disappeared. The external world, Lefebvre, the soldiers, the gypsies, Paris, the King, the past and their short future.

All was gone.

They were only two gold souls, madly and irrevocably in love with each other.

Esmeralda sat on his lap and he held her between his arms as she kissed him passionately.

It no longer mattered that they were going to be dead tomorrow, for they were alive right now. If these were their final hours inhabiting a human body, of flesh and blood, they would make sure they were enough for a lifetime.

* * *

Esmeralda opened her eyes in complete darkness. It took her a second to remember where she was, and then it all came flooding back.

\- No!- she yelled, her hand desperately looking for Frollo's body. Fortunately, she felt his chest right beside her. - Claude, wake up! We fell asleep!

She heard the judge grunting, though she was unable to see his face. The torch had consumed long ago, and the cell was completely black. She felt an increasing terror.

\- We fell asleep! How long has it been? - she asked anxiously.

\- I don't know. - Frollo said, getting up from the floor where they had laid exhausted to rest for a minute, God knows how long ago.

He felt calm. His body was relaxed, all the tension had been released. His mind was also still. There was nothing left to think about. And strangely enough, his heart was also at peace. Of course he was grieving for the loss of his future with her… But at the same time, he knew that would have been inevitable either way. It would have never been enough, no matter how many years they might have had together.

But in the darkness, he could hear her accelerated breathing, and he realized she was starting to freak out. He couldn't blame her. He hadn't want to consider the physical pain they would be facing, but he knew she wasn't so good at detaching from her body as he, who had trained himself for years to ignore his body's urges.

\- Come here. - he called her gently, and he scooped her into his arms again.

\- Claude… - she said, her voice trembling.

\- I know. - he comforted her, stroking her hair.

Esmeralda tried to focus on the feeling of his beating heart under his skin, but it only made her aware of how few heartbeats it had left. It wasn't fair. She loved him too much… he should have lived forever.

\- Claude! - she said, suddenly moving as if she was able to look at him. The minuscule amount of light that came under the door from the torches in the dungeon hallway, reflected in his granite eyes just enough that she could know where they were. - What about the second thing? - she asked, excited.

\- The second thing from the alchemists? - Frollo asked, delighted with her curiosity. - Well, I have a little story for you about that.

He heard more than saw, her body readjusting to adopt a comfortable but attentive position.

\- The night we were at Notre Dame alone… - he began, his baritone voice adopting a story-telling tone that made Esmeralda's heart relax almost instantly. - You told me you knew that I had chosen to come back to life, instead of dying… when I was sick. That you had felt it… right?

\- Yes. - she whispered, and her hand reached for his in the dark.

\- Well… I never told you what happened there exactly. I indeed was given a choice. I was in some sort of middle realm. I met… someone, there. I'm honestly not sure who it was. But they said that God wasn't who I thought… what I thought, even. They said when I was close to love, I would know. And then they offered me the choice to come back, or to go … beyond.

There was a long silence after his words. Frollo could hear Esmeralda's slow, deep breathing. Even though he couldn't physically see her face, he knew exactly what she looked like. Mesmerized and thoughtful.

\- The answer has been right under my nose the whole time. - he said, after a while. - As with the coal and the gold… the elixir for eternal life wasn't simply a literal thing. The love that has brought us together… this common essence we share… that will survive our deaths. Our souls will continue to exist, eternally.

\- You mean in Heaven? - she said, wanting so badly to believe his words. She knew in her very bones that there was some truth in what he was saying. But still, there was something about the whole heaven and hell thing that felt off.

\- Maybe… - Frollo pondered. - Or maybe not. Maybe we were also wrong about that. Maybe God isn't what we think, and the afterlife isn't either. I'm not sure anymore. But I'm sure of this. We found each other here, and we'll find each other there, wherever that is.

\- There was a wit...a woman. - Esmeralda corrected herself quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. - At the Court of Miracles. She claimed she had a connection with the spiritual realm. I don't know if it was true, but… she used to say that our souls travel from life to life.

\- Reincarnation? - the judge inquired. He had read about it in ancient books, mainly from the far east, but he had never really considered it.

\- Yes, I think so. She said we forget about it when we're born, but something inside can tell us when we meet someone we've met before… in another life.

\- Hmm… - Frollo hummed, pondering. - If that's true… maybe we'll be granted a second chance someday.

\- Someday… when the world's older. When we are wiser. - she said, trying to imagine such a world.

\- I will find you there. - Frollo promised, reaching for her face. - I will always find you. - he whispered over her lips, and then he kissed them.

Esmeralda focused on every single movement of his lips, the texture of his skin and his hair in her hands... the firm, intense grip of his hands in her waist. His smell, like the first day of rain after a long drought, like ancient alchemy books, like the comforting warmth from a fireplace on a winter's night. Like the sweet perfume of incense ascending in a column of moonlight in Notre Dame in the silence of the night. Like the enchanting music he had played on the harpsichord that stormy night. A million sensations coming back to her, demanding to be remembered one last time, before her body turned to ash.

Then, there was a sound. The distant creak of the dungeon's door. Frollo felt Esmeralda's hand clenching.

\- Esmeralda, listen. - he whispered quickly. - Do you remember what I said about fire, when we talked about alchemy?

\- No… - she said, anxiously. - Yes! Yes. "Even fire can't destroy the purest of things" - she quoted, with a trembling voice.

\- That's right. It will be fast. It will be just flesh. Fire won't destroy us. We'll leave this world, together, alright?

\- Alright. - she said, and she hugged him with all her strength.

The sound of the key in the lock of the cell sent a shiver down Frollo's spine. The sudden light from the bright torch the soldier was carrying allowed him to take a last long look at her sorrowful but determined eyes, filled with tears.

\- I love you.- she whispered, and he nodded, unable to articulate anything else.

\- I'm sorry… - the soldier said, his heart grieving for them. - But it is time.


	56. The Pyre

\- How will it work? - Esmeralda asked in a whisper, as they walked along the dungeon hallway towards the staircase.

\- I… - the former captain cleared his throat. He was visibly upset. - The Captain… I mean, the new Minister… he intended you to go one after the other.

Frollo stopped walking so suddenly that Esmeralda crashed against his back.

\- What? - he hissed furiously.

Apparently, Lefebvre's sadism knew no limits. Forcing one of them to witness the other's execution, whoever went first, was utterly twisted and sick.

\- I tried to talk him out of it. - the soldier quickly explained. - I told him the King would be upset enough knowing he had proceeded with the … execution, without noticing him. And that the King is a kind man… he wouldn't approve such cruelty.

\- Did you convince him? - Frollo asked, still refusing to move.

\- I think so. - the soldier said nervously, knowing that they were already waiting for them outside and that Lefebvre would get restless if they took any longer.

\- What if… - the judge pondered out loud. He threw a quick glance towards the soldier, as if he was evaluating how much they could trust him. But they had nothing left to lose. - What if we offered him to do it that way? And then, while he's focused on me, you somehow managed to escape?

\- Claude, no. - Esmeralda refused, and she sounded surprisingly firm and calm. - We're not doing that. I'm not leaving you. You just said we would do this together.

\- But if you could escape…

\- I don't want to! - she protested. - Please. Let's get this over with. I can't take it anymore.

\- We need to go. - the soldier rushed them.

\- Damn it. - Frollo cursed, defeated, resuming his walking.

\- You wouldn't have been able to escape anyway… - the soldier said after a few seconds of silence. - Lefebvre has all his soldiers in the square. And the place is crowded. I believe the entire city must be there.

\- Really? - Esmeralda asked, disgusted. She would never understand the crowd's pleasure in witnessing such horrible events.

\- Yes. - the soldier confirmed sadly. - He spread the word that he was punishing Judge Frollo for all the sins he had committed… I guess there were a few people holding a grudge and wanting to see you pay. - he explained, though instantly regretting his honesty.

But Frollo didn't seem surprised by this revelation. His face was stoic. He knew he had forever been misunderstood, and now that would be the remaining image of him for history to remember him by.

Once Esmeralda and himself were gone, there would be no one left to remember their true story, their true nature. Not even Quasimodo, who would forever think of him as the man who murdered his mother and lied about it his entire life. Frollo wondered if he would also be witnessing the pyre from his tower, and how would he feel about it. Would he pity him, or would he be glad that justice was being made?

When they finally reached the main square, Frollo looked up at Notre Dame. He narrowed his eyes, trying to discern his adoptive son's figure in the exterior corridors… but they were empty. And somehow, he realized, him not witnessing it was the worst option of all. It meant he didn't even cared enough to want revenge.

His gaze went down the cathedral to the wooden platform that the soldiers had built at her feet. The soldier had been right. The square was crowded, but, as he escorted them towards the ladder, and to Frollo's surprise, everyone remained awfully quiet. There were no insults, no yelling, no protests, nothing. Usually these public events brought out the worse in people, all the hate and the poison they bottled up inside on their daily lives was released with this perfect excuse. But that deadly silence was so grim and ominous, as if a thousand eyes were scrutinizing the depths of his soul.

Esmeralda had also ceased speaking. She was holding her head high, looking at the pile of branches and dry wood waiting for her, focusing just on her next step, and fighting the urge to look around trying to find familiar faces. What difference would that make? In the end, only Frollo would be beside her.

However, when they got to the platform, she couldn't help noticing something. Lefebvre was waiting for them beside it, sitting on a horse. But not any horse. It was Snowball. She cursed between her gritted teeth. She knew it wasn't accidental or random. He had chosen that particular horse to hurt Frollo. She could only see the judge's back as she walked behind him, but she noticed how his frame stiffened when he also realized that.

Once they climbed the ladder, the soldier carefully but firmly tied them to each stake. He was unable to look them in the eye as he tightened the knots on the ropes, and Esmeralda saw the way his jaw was clenching with his inner struggle.

One final desperate survival thought crossed Frollo's mind. What if he grabbed the soldier's sword and attacked Lefebvre? He wouldn't see it coming. But … it would only make things worse. He was just one man, against all his soldiers. And even if he managed to take Lefebvre's life, that would only add to the list of his crimes for whoever came next as a minister. He would only be postponing their execution. He looked at Esmeralda, and as she was able to read her mind, she shook her head. He remembered her words. _"I can't take it any more. Let's get it over with."_

So he didn't move, as the soldier finished tying him to the wood post.

Gérard Lefebvre descended his new horse, and handing the reins to one of his soldiers, he climbed up the ladder as well. A few soldiers were holding drums, tied with leather straps to their backs, and they did a drum roll to announce his speech and have everyone's attention.

\- Citizens of Paris! - he called out loud. The stillness and silence of the people was deafening. - For years your city has belonged to this man standing in front of you today. A sinful man who has allowed sin to run rampant on your streets! Many of you have suffered the consequences of his actions! And today, you get to witness the King's justice being made!

He made a pause, obviously waiting for a round of applause or cheering. But there were only murmurs, quiet enough for him to be incapable of discerning if they were approving or complaining.

Esmeralda threw him a taunting smile. Granted, people in the city disliked Frollo, but at least they were smart enough to also dislike the cruel new Minister. He wouldn't get their respect or approval just by taking out the judge.

But Lefebvre didn't seem to care too much about their lack of enthusiasm, for unlike his dead brother, he never really sought people's admiration. He had other priorities. So he decided to cut straight to the chase, and get to the part that really interested him.

\- Last night, Claude Frollo committed his final crime against the King and this city, when he cowardly murdered my beloved brother, and your beloved Minister of Justice, Gaspard Lefebvre.

Esmeralda snorted.

\- Hypocrite! - she murmured.

Gérard threw her a cold hateful glance.

\- With the help of this gypsy witch and accomplice. - he spat, and the despise in his tone was so evident that it surprised her that no one jeered. There had to be some gypsies present… _right?_ Did they really not care at all about her death? Not even enough to attend the execution?

Apparently, not.

\- So as the new Minister of Justice, my first ruling from this sadly acquired position, is to sentence them both to die on the pyre. Let justice be made, once and for all! - he yelled, as he reached for the torch his soldier was handing him.

\- Claude! - she called, throwing the man she had loved most one last desperate glance.

\- You're the love of my life. - Frollo exclaimed, loud enough that anyone could hear. This time, the multitude did make a sound, kind of a collective gasp of astonishment to hear such words coming from the judge's mouth.- I'll find you on the next one. - he said, as the flames began to consume the branches at his feet, and a thick column of smoke surrounded him.

\- You better! - it was the last words he heard, before Lefebvre also set fire to the pile beneath Esmeralda.

The heat began getting dangerously close to the soles of his feet. He inhaled sharply, though the smoke immediately made him cough. He closed his eyes. He had probably only a few seconds of lucidity before the unbearable pain took his mind away. The most precious seconds of his life, the ones right at the end of it, were spent recalling one brief memory, from all the years of his life. The moment he had told Esmeralda what Snowball's name was. The image of her face red with laughter, her eyes filled with tears and her arm grasping for a post to hold herself as her body rocked back and forth with shrieks of laughter. If he got to keep one single memory from his entire existence, that would be it. That summed up all the beauty he had found upon this Earth.

Then, three things happened at once.

The fire reached his skin.

He heard Esmeralda stop coughing, which hopefully meant she had already passed out from the smoke, before the flames touched her feet.

And he heard another sound, a sharp, hissing sound, and then a dull crack, and then the loud, heavy fall of something right beside him.

After that, chaos unleashed.


	57. The End

The rock flew fast across the square's air and hit Lefebvre right in the middle of his forehead. The bone of his skull cracked loudly and he fell flat on his back, instantly dead.

That was the sign.

Suddenly, the quiet multitude became a wild horde of roaring attackers. The air filled with all sorts of projectiles made from daily objects, even fruits and vegetables and eggs. Farming tools were brought out of nowhere and wielded like swords.

The soldiers were caught completely off guard, and before they could react, a furious mass of citizens were upon them, their attacks were erratic but at the same time, strangely coordinated, as if they shared a collective mind like a swarm of angry wasps.

In a matter of seconds, the previously quiet square became a symphony of screams, cries and crashes that elevated with the black smoke towards the darkening twilight sky.

But Frollo didn't have time to process what was going on around him, because he was too focused on desperately raising his legs, in a futile attempt to escape the fire for a few more seconds. His survival instinct had kicked in, despite any rational knowing that death was inevitable.

It was only when he felt a sharp blade moving in between his hands, when his frantic trance was broken.

He thought maybe the former captain of the guard had regretted his obedience towards Lefebvre and decided to set them free, but the voice cursing between their teeth sounded different from his, though it was hard to tell among the noise of the crackling wood, the hissing of the fire and the sound of his own suffocated coughing.

Suddenly, he felt his hands released. His arms fell to his front, and he had to raise his hands not to touch the flames that kept growing avidly, already scorching the skin of his legs. A few seconds later, the ropes around his chest and torso also fell loose. Frollo stumbled across the flames and immediately, someone threw a bucket of water over him. The cold water was a shocking heaven for his burnt skin, though his lungs were still having a hard time breathing in the middle of all that smoke. Before he could even regain his balance, he felt a strong pull at his arm and he fell off the platform where the two pyres stood. He hit his head with the cobblestones, and everything went black for a second, while hundreds of feet ran past him and the deafening sounds of the battle reverberated in his eardrums. Again, someone pulled from his arm, dragging him through the floor until he was under the platform, safe from being crushed by the crowd. He opened his eyes in the darkness, still wondering what the hell was going on. When he saw who was the person beside him, his confusion only increased. But there was only one question that mattered to him:

\- Where is she? Is she safe? - he asked desperately.

\- She is! - the figure responded, while looking anxiously towards the other end of the platform. - Can you walk? We need to leave!

Frollo tried to get up. His head was still spinning from the smoke and the hit, but he managed to stand. The burns in his legs were extremely painful, but he realized with relief that they were only superficial. No muscle damage had been done.

\- I can walk. - he said, though he wasn't sure where they could possibly go.

\- Then go! Towards the alley! - the other responded, already pushing his back towards the open air again.- Run!

\- Esmeralda… - Frollo protested, but the man pushed him again and disappeared among the multitude.

The judge obeyed blindly, running as fast as his tired lungs and legs allowed him, expecting that at any second a soldier or an angry citizen would stop him and force him to go back to the blazing pyre. But miraculously no one intercepted him, and he managed to reach the darkness of the alley, where he leaned against the stone wall for a second to catch his breath.

It was only then that his mind assimilated what had just happened.

Clopin had saved his life.

But before he could even begin to question how was this possible, someone grabbed his arm. He turned around violently, ready to fight whoever the assailant was, until he saw his face. A face that couldn't be mistaken for any other, cause it was unique in the world.

\- Quasimodo! - he said, his knees weakening with shock.

\- Come with me! - the young man said, hurrying him down the alley.

Once again, Frollo obeyed blindly, more and more puzzled as the events kept unfolding right in front of his eyes. They turned a corner and entered some sort of tunnel between two buildings. There, laying in the floor, was Esmeralda's body.

\- God. - Frollo gasped, immediately forgetting all about his own pain, and falling to his knees beside her.

\- She's alive. - Quasimodo reassured him, at the same time that his fingers found the pulse in her neck. - She just passed out.

The man turned to look at him. Their eyes met for a second, and then Quasimodo looked away nervously.

\- What is happening? - Frollo asked. - Why are you helping us? I thought you were furious.

\- I am. - Quasimodo affirmed, shaking his head, and finally looking back at him. - That's why I'm doing this. You don't get to die before I've had time to forgive you.

Frollo felt a lump in his throat, and he fought the urge to get up and hug the man.

\- I'm so sorry… - he said instead, with a strangled voice.

\- I know you are. - Quasimodo replied, and though he sounded harsh, Frollo could feel the underlying trace of compassion in his tone.

\- Is she okay? - they heard Clopin's voice, as he raced towards them. His face was contorted from the effort, and he was out of breath. - She needs to wake up now!

He kneeled beside Frollo, and without warning, he slapped Esmeralda hard.

Frollo yelled at him, but before he could scold him, Esmeralda moaned softly.

\- Hey, sis, we need to get going! - Clopin told her, already pulling from her arm to lift her from the ground.

\- Clopin? - she called, stunned. - Claude? - she asked then anxiously.

\- Here. I'm here. Get up. - the judge responded, his whole body filled with relief seeing she was awake and responding.

\- What happened? - she asked, holding on to both men to be able to stand up straight.

\- There's a caravan waiting for us outside the city. We need to get to them as soon as possible. We're leaving Paris. - Clopin explained hastily.

\- How? The soldiers… - Esmeralda frowned, still struggling to stand.

\- They will be busy for a while… but there's no time to lose.- Clopin affirmed.

\- Why is the people…? - Frollo began to ask, but Clopin threw him a killing glance.

\- I said there's no time to lose! You want an explanation or you want to run? - he yelled.

\- Fine, sorry. - Frollo apologized, nodding. - Where should we…?

But his question was again interrupted by the sound of hooves on the cobblestones.

\- Damn it! - Clopin cursed, pushing Esmeralda towards the darkest part of the tunnel to hid her from view.

But when the massive black horse turned the corner and came into sight, they realized he had no rider on his saddle.

\- Snowball! - Frollo called the beast, amazed at his perfect timing. Of all the places the creature could have chosen to flee from the square's chaos, he had ended up in their alley, as if he had somehow followed Frollo's presence there.

The horse ran towards his legitimate owner, apparently delighted to reunite with him. Frollo grabbed his reins and he pressed his forehead against the horse's muzzle. He had never been so grateful to an animal before.

\- Perfect! - Clopin exclaimed. - Get on, and run towards the river. The others are waiting there! I will be right after you!

Quasimodo also nodded, covering himself again with his cape.

\- I will keep watch from the tower, make sure the soldiers don't notice your absence too soon and…

\- No. - Frollo intervened with a drastic tone.

They all looked at him expectantly.

\- You're not going back to that tower. You're coming with us. - he stated, as if it was obvious.

Quasimodo stared at him, and then looked at Clopin, hesitant. That was not part of the plan.

\- Quasi, he's right. - Esmeralda said carefully. - We can't leave you behind. If we're all leaving, you're coming too.

He looked at her, and then again at Clopin, and then at Frollo.

\- But… I can't… - he said, his voice trembling with fear. - I… I can't leave Notre Dame. I'm the bell ringer! - he tried to justify himself.

\- Notre Dame was here before you, and she will still be here after. - Frollo said, taking a step towards his adoptive son. - I never thought I would leave Paris either. But if I'm going to do it then it's as you said… I can't say goodbye to you before you've had time to forgive me.

Quasimodo's eyes began flooding. He raised his gaze to the cathedral that had been his home, his refuge, his sanctuary from the cruel world outside. How could he possibly leave it behind, and expose himself to the dangers of the world?

\- I know I'm not your father. - Frollo said. - But you are my son. I thought I had lost you forever. But you gave me a second chance at life, and I will spend it trying to make up for what I did. - he swore, staring deeply into the hunchback's eyes. - I won't let anyone hurt you again.

\- We're your family Quasi. - Esmeralda said, also taking a step towards him. - Please come with us.

Quasimodo threw Clopin an inquiring glance, still unsure what to do.

\- I won't ever tell you what to do. I think you've had enough of that for a lifetime. - the gypsy man said, with a shrug. - But if you choose to join us, you'll be one of us. We won't let you down. - he assured firmly.

There it was… the freedom and belonging he had longed for his entire life. It was both terrifying and utterly exciting.

\- Alright. - he said at last. - I'll come.

Frollo smiled so widely that Clopin looked at him in bewilderment, finding it hard to recognize the cold judge in that warm face. But then he snapped back to reality.

\- Okay, then you come with me! We'll meet them at the caravan, you go, now! - he ordered, pointing towards the horse.

\- Wait! - Frollo interrupted him again.

\- What now? - Clopin asked furiously.

\- First, I have to go back to the Palace of Justice.- he explained.

\- WHAT? - the three voices yelled at once.

\- Are you seriously thinking about your fancy stuff right now!? - Clopin inquired with disbelief.

\- Claude, please, we need to go! - Esmeralda urged him. - Nothing matters that much! - she insisted, well aware of how precious some of his books were, and his medicines, and the work of a lifetime. - This is life and death!

\- I know. - Frollo replied with certainty. - It's not that. I made a promise. - he said, throwing Esmeralda a meaningful look.

\- Whatever it is, it will have to be broken! There's no time! - Clopin insisted, but to his dread, Esmeralda was smiling and nodding.

She had understood.

\- He's right. - she announced. - You go ahead. We'll meet you there! - she said, getting surprisingly fast on Snowball's back, as the gypsy and the hunchback disappeared running towards the square. - Are you coming or what? - she asked Frollo with a mocking smile.

\- With you I'd go anywhere. - he replied with a smile, finally assimilating the fact that they were alive.

* * *

\- Where the hell are they? - Quasimodo asked nervously, for the third time.

Everyone had already reunited in their meeting spot. The gypsy colorful caravans were lined up, the horses ready to pull from them, everyone holding their luggage and looking anxiously at the path for any sing of the soldiers.

\- I should have never let her go with him. - Clopin lamented, rubbing his hands together with anguish. - What was I thinking? Going back to the palace! - he said, frustrated. - If they get caught now it will all have been in vain! - he yelled, kicking a stone from the ground to release his tension.

\- There! -Quasimodo screamed suddenly, pointing towards the far end of the path.

The distant sound of hurried hooves in the dust made Clopin's heart skip a beat. Finally! He ran towards them, narrowing his eyes trying to discern their silhouettes.

\- Who's that? - he asked, stopping in his tracks.

Quasimodo walked up to him, also narrowing his eyes. There were three people on the back of the huge horse.

\- I don't …. Wait! It's Pat! - he recognized.

Indeed, the young stable lad was riding in front of Esmeralda, his hands grasping Snowball's hair to prevent a fall.

His eyes were open widely, looking around him as if he still was unable to believe what was going on. Half an hour earlier he was in his bed at the Palace's stables, bawling his eyes out as horrible images of his master and his gypsy friend being pasture of the flames flooded his mind. The devastating impotence he was feeling was only matched by the overwhelming fear of what would become of him now they were gone and that scary man Lefebvre was his new master. He had only spoken to him twice, but it had been enough for him to recognize in Lefebvre's eyes a familiar darkness… the same he had witnessed in his father's eyes every time he had beaten him during the first nine years of his life. He wasn't ready to resume that way of life ever again. And just when he was wondering what he could do, he heard a voice calling him from the outside. He walked out of his small room, but there was no one there. Only the horses at the stables. Not even Djali had stayed around to keep him company. He probably had sensed somehow that his owner wouldn't be coming back, and he had fled through the crack in the wall.

Pat looked around, he shrugged, and he headed back to the door, when he heard the voice again, this time loud enough for him to recognize it.

\- Master? - he whispered in the nocturnal air.

\- Over here! - Frollo called him, and the lad realized he was on the other side of the wall.

\- You're alive! - Pat exclaimed, involuntarily rising his tone.

\- Shhh! - the judge quickly hushed him. - Come, fast!

Pat climbed clumsily through the crack, placing his feet in the few protruding rocks. When his face finally reached the space of the crack, he was able to see Frollo and Esmeralda sitting on Snowball's back.

\- Are you okay? - he asked, amazed.

\- We are, but we need to go. - Frollo explained, still whispering. - Come with us.

\- What? Me? - Pat said, unable to believe what he was hearing.

\- Yes, you! I promised you as long as I lived I would make sure you were safe. - Frollo explained confident. - Apparently, I just earned a second chance to fulfill my promise.

Pat couldn't believe his luck. He didn't have to think it twice. Without looking back, he climbed the rest of the wall, and he fell on the other side. Esmeralda gave him a warm smile and she offered him her hand to help him get on the horse.

And just like that, they had left the Palace behind and raced around the city to reunite with the gypsy caravan.

\- Hurry, get down. - Clopin rushed them the moment they reached his position. - You need to hide inside. - he pointed out to his wagon. - Someone from the farms around could recognize you.

\- You ride him. - Frollo said, handing Pat the reins.

\- Really? - Pat asked, astonished.

\- You're the only one I would trust him with. - Frollo encouraged him with a smile, as both he and Esmeralda descended the horse, which looked even bigger now that it was only Pat's skinny figure over him.

Frollo took a last look back towards the city. Though it was dark, he was able to discern Notre Dame's towers silhouettes against the night sky. He didn't know when, or if he would ever be coming back. His heart shrunk a little as he send the cathedral an inner goodbye. _"I'll come back to you, my dear. Even if it's in the next life"._

They entered the wagon silently, and once they were safe inside, Clopin gave the order and the caravan began moving.

\- I'll let you know when it's safe to get out. - he told them, sticking his head through the door before closing it.

And then they were alone.

They looked at each other. There were no words. Too much had happened too fast, so many intense emotions, so many questions floating in the air. But none of it mattered. They were together, and they were alive.

Esmeralda threw her arms around him, making him fall on his back with a grunt. She apologized with a chuckle, though her eyes were filled with tears. Frollo kissed her forehead and pressed her against his chest. Only then, feeling her safe and sound between his arms, he allowed himself to pass out from the pain.

* * *

When Frollo woke up again, the wagon wasn't moving. He turned his head towards the window, which was covered with a garnet striped orange curtain. It was hard to tell, but the amount of sunlight was enough to determine that many hours had passed. Esmeralda wasn't there.

He tried to get up, but instantly felt two hands grabbing his ankle.

\- Stay still! - a stranger's voice commanded.

He looked down and saw the silhouette of an old lady bending over his legs. Only then he noticed that the pain from the burns had decreased considerably.

\- What are you doing? - Frollo asked, reticent but also grateful.

\- I'm treating your wounds so they heal properly - the woman explained without looking at him. She was too focused on applying some kind of green ointment on his damaged skin.

\- What is in that? - he asked again, this time with genuine curiosity.

\- Plants. - the woman responded simply.

\- Chamomile? - he wondered.

The woman raised her eyes at him with a frown.

\- You know your plants, don't you? - she asked him, scrutinizing his face with suspicion. Men didn't usually care about those sorts of things. It had always been women who taught one another the secrets of the healing herbs.

\- Well… it was mostly the smell. - Frollo said humbly, unsure what the woman would rather hear.

\- What else can you smell? - the old lady asked, stretching her arm so her stained fingers were closer to his face.

\- Hmm… -Frollo focused, closing his eyes. - I would say lavender… and thyme, I'm guessing to prevent infection. And… some marigold maybe, for a better cicatrization?

\- That's more than a good sense of smell, judge. - the woman replied with accusation, though when Frollo opened his eyes he saw she was smiling. - Marigold barely has a scent, let alone when mixed with lavender or thyme.

\- I've read a few books on the matter. - he admitted, reciprocating her smile.

\- Maybe we will share some tips down the road. - she winked at him, and resumed her task. - Now please stay still, I'm almost done.

Frollo laid down his head in a pillow someone had placed under his head, and concentrated on the pleasant relief that the ointment caused on his sore skin.

A couple minutes later, as the woman finished covering his wounds, the door of the wagon opened and Esmeralda came inside.

\- Good, you're awake! - she said happily. - And I see you've met Galinda!

\- Apparently, we have something in common. - the old woman said, cleaning her hands in a cloth and getting up from her chair. - Make sure they stay clean! - she instructed Frollo, pointing to his legs.

The judge nodded obediently, and with another smile, the woman left them alone.

\- How are you feeling? - Esmeralda asked.

\- I'm good. What about you? Did you get burnt?- he asked concerned.

\- Fortunately not. - she said, recalling the heat and scorching sound from the pyre with a shiver. - I can believe we're safe.

\- What happened? - Frollo asked, still unsure of how and why they had managed to survive.

\- Hmm… how well are you feeling? Do you think you could stand up with my help? - Esmeralda asked him, raising an eyebrow with a crooked smile.

\- Let's try. - Frollo suggested, intrigued.

The ointment was really helping. He got up pretty easily, though he was still feeling a little lightheaded.

\- Follow me. - Esmeralda instructed him, offering her hand to help him descend the wagon ladder.

They were in the middle of a forest. The path was nowhere to be found. They were all surrounded by tall trees and green grass, with some yellow and purple wild flowers splattered around like drops of paint.

\- How long have I been out? - he asked, surprised.

\- It's the afternoon. We've been traveling for hours. We decided to stop and have something to eat here, safe from prying eyes. - Esmeralda explained, as she guided him towards the rest of the gypsies, who were gathered in several small circles all over the forest ground, eating and talking lively.

They walked towards the closest circle, where Clopin was drinking from a horn.

\- Hey! - the jester called when he saw them coming. - I was starting to think you were dead! - he said, moving aside to leave the judge a free space in the fallen trunk he was sitting on, so he wouldn't have to place his wounded legs on the dirt.

\- Thank you. - Frollo murmured, as Esmeralda helped him down.

\- You're gonna have to tell the story again, Clopin. - she said with an apologetic smile.

\- Oh, it's no bother. It's a great story to tell, after all. - he replied with a proud smile and a puffed chest.

He carefully laid the horn in the ground, and he cleared his throat, readjusting his position in the trunk so he would be facing Frollo, wanting to see his reaction to what he was about to reveal.

\- It all began yesterday at dawn, when Gérard Lefebvre made his soldiers spread the word that the Minister of Justice had been murdered in his sleep… by no other that the former minister, Claude Frollo himself! - he announced theatrically, pointing at Frollo.

Esmeralda threw him a warning glance, knowing that Frollo wouldn't love being reminded of his crime, as justified as it had been.

\- But he hadn't done it alone, oh no! His evil accomplice, the gypsy witch Esmeralda, had helped him commit such sinful deed! - Clopin continued, caught up in his story-telling attitude.

Frollo threw a quick glance around, wondering what the rest of the gypsies in the circle would be thinking about him, as he was being described in such intense words. But they seem delighted in Clopin's tale, like they didn't mind his presence there. He looked at the jester again, who was waiting to get his attention back to proceed.

\- The soldiers extended everyone in Paris an invitation to assist their execution, that same day at sunset, at the main square at Notre Dame. They were to burn at the pyre! - he said dramatically. - We couldn't believe it. Something didn't make sense. Even if Lefebvre's story was true… Why hadn't he waited for the King's permission? After all, it wasn't any common thief he intended to execute… but the mighty judge himself! - he explained with a grandiloquent gesture towards Frollo. - It wasn't just us who realized something was off. Many citizens in Paris felt the same way. And then, the strangest thing happened!

\- What? - Frollo inquired, getting plunged into his story. The other gypsies laughed at his tone, for he sounded like an amazed child. Clopin was delighted.

\- An old woman approached me… she said she had something important to discuss. Do you remember madame Delaine?

The name rang a bell, but it took Frollo a moment to remember.

\- The widow? - he asked, recalling the woman who had thanked him for resolving her situation at court.

\- Precisely. - Clopin nodded. - She seemed to think you didn't deserve such cruel, precipitated end. _There had been no time for a fair trial!_, she complained. She warned us that if Lefebvre was willing to skip the rules with one of the most powerful figures in Paris, what wouldn't he do to any of us commoners? She had a point. - he stated, and the others nodded in agreement. - So we summoned the citizens for a secret meeting at the catacombs. We warned them to come gradually, to not raise suspicions from the soldiers, though they were busy building the pyre platform at the square at a fast rate so it would be ready by the end of the day.

He made a pause, and picked up his drink again to quench his thirst.

Frollo was really intrigued about where his story would lead, even if he already knew the ending of it.

\- The turnout to the meeting was much bigger that we had anticipated. - Clopin continued, dropping his empty horn on the ground. Frollo couldn't help wondering why they didn't seem to care about drinking from something who had just been in the same dirt as their feet and their horse's shit. If this was his life now, he would have to make a great effort to get over his taste for hygiene. But the jester's voice brought his thoughts back to the story- Apparently, many citizens agreed that ever since the Lefebvre brothers had taken control of the city, Paris had become a living hell. The rules had hardened enormously, and the punishments were not at all in proportion to the faults. Surprisingly, many of them, including madame Delaine, felt that with Judge Frollo gone, we were in for an even worse ride. They seemed to be convinced that, as cruel as Frollo had been in the past, he had changed since the events of the Tupsy Turvy earlier this year.

The silence around them became thick as a velvet robe. Frollo didn't dare to look around this time, unable to face the accusatory expressions he thought he would find on the gypsies faces, for as much as he had tried to be merciful in the past few months, he had persecuted them for years before that, executing their family members.

\- The citizens had a point. - Clopin said, lowering his tone and getting serious. - But we were not convinced. And then, we heard a voice, coming from someone at the end of the crowd, who was hiding under a cape. - he said mysteriously. - It was no other than the bell ringer of Notre Dame! He had had the nerve to come to the catacombs, even if he had been previously warned of what would happen to him if he dared to show his misshapen face down there again! - he explained to the circle of gypsies, who nodded in confirmation.

Frollo felt uncomfortable hearing the way Clopin was talking about the hunchback, but he was starting to understand that the man was just in character, using a compelling story-telling language to add color to his tale. Also, he realized that Quasimodo was nowhere near them. He was sitting on another circle of people, a few trees away, and apparently wasn't listening to their story.

\- Anyway – Clopin said with a loud clap, once again attempting to retrieve Frollo's attention. - The hunchback made a fair point too, and eventually it tipped the scales. - He made a dramatic pause, before getting to the juicy part of the story. - So we all decided we needed to show Lefebvre that we wouldn't stand for it. The citizens wanted to prove they were a force to be reckoned with, so it was decided that once the pyres were lit, we would take Lefebvre down and then storm his soldiers, proving that we outnumbered them and that they didn't stand a chance against us. Someone pointed out that if we killed Lefebvre, his substitute would probably be the former captain of the guard, who had already been in charge of the city during Frollo's absence last month. We didn't know much about him, but he seemed to be a decent man. So it was settled that we wouldn't try to kill the soldiers, specially him. We would just show them what we're capable of! - Clopin yelled, raising his fist in the air, and the rest of the gypsies cheered on. - It was clear that if we all united, gypsies and commoners, they wouldn't be able to punish all of us. But still… some of the Parisians had their reservations. So we offered them a deal. - he explained them, lowering his tone as if he was conspiring.

The man certainly had a talent for story-telling, Frollo thought with an inner smile, eager to know what had happened then.

\- We promised that if they supported us in our rebellion and we succeeded, the remaining gypsies would leave Paris for good, and they would have their city all to themselves. This seemed to convince the reluctant ones, who still didn't like the idea of partnering with us. - he said with a shrug and a comic gesture, as if he couldn't possibly understand why anyone would have reservations about them. - So the plan was made, and the citizens left to get ready for the evening. It was only when we were finally alone again… that we began crafting our own plan. - the jester said, with a devilish smile. - We are conspiring gypsies after all, aren't we? - he claimed, and everyone laughed.

Once again Frollo looked around, slowly assimilating where he was and who were there with him. He would have never envisioned himself in that situation. But he didn't have much time to consider what it all meant, for Clopin was ready to continue his story.

\- The citizens thought we would act during the executions. What they didn't know was… we intended to prevent them. We decided that while everyone else was focusing on the riot, Quasimodo and myself would climb up to the platform and take you out of the flames. Timing was crucial. If we did it too soon, someone could see us and realize what we were doing, maybe trying to stop us. But if we waited too long, well… - he said with a nervous smile, tracing a line across his neck with his finger and sticking out his tongue. - It was very important that people thought you had burned. That way, no one would come chasing after you once the riot was over.

\- But they will notice. - Frollo dared to interrupt him, and he felt all eyes on him. However, he had a more urgent concern. - Maybe not right away, but once the fires go out, the soldiers will notice there are no human rests among the ashes. They will realize we escaped and send someone after us! - he looked at Esmeralda with an increasing alarm growing in his chest. - There's nowhere we can go that the King's soldiers won't find us eventually!

\- If you would let me finish my story! - Clopin scolded him harshly, irritated.

Esmeralda laughed, to Frollo's surprise. Why wasn't she more worried about this?

\- You seem to consistently underestimate us,_ your honor_. - Clopin said mockingly. - That won't be a problem because there will_ indeed_ be human rests at the pyre.

\- What? - Frollo asked, baffled. - Who? - his mind was racing. Lefebvre, he thought, but then he immediately discarded the idea, for surely the soldiers would notice if the minister's body was missing. It had to be someone else, someone anonymous, someone who wouldn't be missed… _Oh God, what had they done?_ \- Did you… ? - he began, unsure if he really wanted to hear the answer.

\- Murder someone to put their bodies instead of yours? - Clopin finished his question, raising an eyebrow. - What kind of barbarians do you take us for? - he asked, pretending to be greatly offended. Again, the people around him laughed, but Frollo wasn't sure if he was joking at all. Clopin moved closer to him, and he lowered his tone again. - You see, your honor… the upside of being forced to live hiding in the catacombs is… you've plenty of bones to spare. - he confessed with a wink, and the circle of people bursted into applause.

Frollo's eyes widened with understanding and admiration. It was a perfect plan! If the fire burned long enough, any trace of flesh or clothing would vanish, leaving only bones as proof they were there… the same scorched bones they would be finding now.

\- Everyone will think we're dead! - Esmeralda explained with a huge smile. - So no one will ever come looking for us! We just need to be careful until we're far away from Paris, where no one can recognize you. They saved us! - she said, gesturing towards the gypsies, who once the story was over, were starting to get up from the floor and gather their plates and cups, taking them back to the wagons and scattering around the forest.

Only when they moved from his view, Frollo was able to take a better look at Quasimodo. He had noticed the movement on their circle and was looking at them. The judge made an inviting gesture for him to join them, but the lad declined with a polite smile. He wasn't ready yet to be around Frollo like nothing had happened. Frollo understood and he nodded back.

\- Who's that, sitting with them? - he asked Esmeralda, pointing to the girl who was in front of Quasimodo, chatting vivaciously with Pat.

\- That's Dalia. - Esmeralda revealed with a meaningful look. - I think she and Pat are getting along really well, don't you? I'm going to say hello! - she decided, getting up. - You want me to introduce you?

\- No, I'm good. - Frollo replied, pointing to his legs.

Esmeralda smiled and walked away in such a happily manner, she looked like she was dancing. They opened up a space in their circle, and she sat down in the grass, like it was the most natural thing.

\- I have a question for you. - Frollo said, once she was gone. He turned towards Clopin, who looked back at him expectant. - Why me? I get that she's your sister… and that even if you were mad at her, you would want to save her. But why did you save me too?

\- She would have murdered me if I hadn't. - Clopin said simply, with a shrug. But Frollo stared at him, knowing there was more to it. Finally, the gypsy sighed, and he confessed. - If someone had told me a few months ago you would be tied to a stake in a flaming pyre, I would have wanted to witness it first row. I had my mind made up about you a long time ago. And to this day, I still think I was pretty accurate. - he warned him, and Frollo didn't contradict him. - However… when you came to the Court of Miracles and I saw you seemed to truly care about her… It planted a seed of doubt. I didn't want to believe it but then, yesterday, Quasimodo said something that opened my eyes. - he revealed, and Frollo realized he hadn't mention what Quasimodo's point was before, during his story.

\- What did he say? - he inquired, looking at the red-haired lad laughing in the distance.

\- He said that whatever had happened with Lefebvre… the minister, I mean. The one you killed. That if you had wanted to save your own life, you could have. You could have pinned it all on Esmeralda, and since she is a gypsy, and a woman, you would probably have gotten away with it.

Frollo looked at him, horrified just by the mere thought of it.

\- And I realized he was right. No one would question Judge Claude Frollo's word if he claimed to be innocent, or at least, manipulated by the evil gypsy witch. - he said bitterly. - So the fact that you were dying by her side could only mean you loved her for real.

\- Of course I do. - Frollo said hoarsely.

\- Someone able of sacrificing his life for love seemed to be someone worth saving. - Clopin concluded, staring right into his eyes. - I might have been wrong about you. At least, when it comes to you and her. If you do love her that much, then… we're on the same team. - he stated, offering Frollo his hand.

The judge looked at the gypsy leader's caramel hand, extended towards him. He couldn't believe he had lived to see this. But he took a deep breath and he realized that he was being offered a chance. A chance to leave his old self to die at the pyre, even if he hadn't. To leave the ruthless, distrustful man he had been, among the ashes and the scorched bones that everyone would think were his. And to discover a new way of being, of living, and of interacting with the world and the people in it. He smiled timidly, and he shook Clopin's hand.

\- I hope you don't prove me wrong. - the jester warned him, though he was also smiling. - These people are my family. I will do anything to protect them. - he stated firmly.

Frollo's eyes wandered around the forest. Here and there, people dressed in bright colors were talking and laughing loudly. There was joyful music coming from one of the wagons, and a few children dancing to it. He had never stopped to watch the gypsies closely, being so busy as he had been worrying about their possible threat to his well structured life. Granted, as Clopin had said, he knew he hadn't been entirely wrong about them either… But maybe that was just one side of many. Looking at them now…

\- What are you looking at? - Esmeralda's voice interrupted his thoughts. She had come back to the trunk where her brother and the love of her life were still seated.

\- I see it now.- he admitted, and his eyes were bright when he looked at her. - The beauty.

Esmeralda's eyes filled with tears as she understood the meaning in his words, and she felt her heart was about to explode, unable to contain the immense joy and relief she was feeling.

Clopin realized the privacy of their unspoken communication, and he got up, ready to leave. But Frollo reached for his sleeve, stopping him.

\- Thank you. I'll forever owe you my life. And hers. I know you thought I was a monster, so… Whatever part of you that decided to give me a second chance… instead of considering the pyre was cosmic justice… thank you.

\- That's one way to look at it. - Clopin said, thoughtful. - But I'd rather think that what it's actually cosmic justice is that you will have to live the rest of your life as one of us outcasts… Who knows? Maybe you will learn something. - he leaned closer, and tapped on his shoulder. - Now… here is a riddle, to guess if you can… what makes a monster and what makes a man? - he sang, and with a wink, he disappeared jumping among the trees.

Esmeralda chuckled at the sight of her brother, and the sound of her laughter, so pure and finally free, made Frollo's soul expand. _What makes a monster and what makes a man…_ it was probably the question he had asked himself his entire life.

But as he looked at the woman beside him, Claude Frollo sighed with satisfaction. He had finally found the answer.

.

.

.

_The end._

* * *

**A/N. Stay tuned for the epilogue! ;) **


	58. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Notre Dame was on fire. _

_No one was sure where the vicious flames had originated, but they were climbing rapidly up the spiracle, devouring the wooden ceiling, hungry to consume the entire cathedral. _

_The beautiful rose window glass had bursted because of the heat, and the metal was beginning to melt down. _

_The firefighters were rushing in from all over the city, the sound of their firetrucks sirens filled the ears of anyone walking through the streets. _

That is, of course, for anyone who wasn't wearing headphones. Which was the case of the doctor, walking in the opposite direction, looking at the store names in search for the one his son had told him to go to.

He had left his consult ten minutes earlier to run this errand, so by the time his receptionist heard the news of the fire, the doctor was already gone.

There it was, the sports shop his son had told him about. He took of one of his earphones.

\- Good evening. - he greeted the store assistant.

\- Good evening, how can I help you? - the young man replied, leaving his phone on the counter at the same moment the first text about the fire arrived.

The doctor raised the plastic bag he was holding, and he took out a couple of old sneakers.

\- My son bought this here a few months ago.

\- A few months? - the assistant repeated with disbelief. The sneakers were visibly worn, and the soles were so thin they looked like they were about to tear.

\- Yes, he does this… parkour thing, you know.

\- Oh, yes! I think I remember him. - the assistant face lighted up with delight. - He was here earlier this year, wasn't he?

\- I think so… these were a late Christmas present. - the doctor confirmed absently. - Anyway, as you can see he's pretty much used them up, so he was wondering if you still had the same model.

\- Actually we do. - the assistant nodded. - Just tell me the size and I'll fetch them for you.

Five minutes later, the doctor left the store with two pairs of sneakers in his bag, and he placed the earphone back on to resume his podcast. He was listening to a very interesting article about the study of consciousness beyond clinical death, what was called near-death experiences. However, as he walked down the street, he noticed a weird music playing, and he took out his phone to pause the podcast and check if it was on his recording or outside.

The music was coming from a young street musician, who was playing some kind of ocarina. Beside him there was a young woman dancing.

He usually paid no attention to street performances like that. He preferred going to the theater, or assisting classical concerts. However, there was something about them that caught his attention, and he slowed down his steps.

The young woman was dancing in a beautiful way, her curly black hair spinning around her head with every movement. At one point, she looked up and their eyes met, and he felt as if an iron fist had just punched all the air out of his lungs. He _**knew**_ her. But he didn't. Maybe he had seen her on the street before? He pondered, though the intensity of the electric shock he had felt was still lingering on his limbs.

In that moment, a man came out of nowhere and grabbed the camera that the two performers had set on a tripod in front of them, probably to record their act. The camera was screwed to the tripod, and there was also a cloth bag hanging from it, but the man grabbed it all and ran as fast as he could.

\- Hey! - the ocarina player yelled, and he ran right after the thief, calling him insults and asking the people to stop him, though no one intervened. The first man turned the corner and the musician disappeared after him.

Everyone was looking at them, shocked by the unexpected crime. It took the dancer a second to realized what had just happened.

\- Damn it! - she cursed, hesitating.

The doctor wondered why she wasn't also chasing after the thief, and then he realized she was barefoot.

\- Hello. - he greeted her, coming closer.

\- Hey… - she responded, without looking at him. She was stretching her neck to raise her eyes, still searching for her companion among the multitude.

\- Why are you barefoot? - he asked, trying to sound polite.

\- Huh? - she said absently, looking down at her feet. - Oh. I dance better like this. My shoes were on that bag… - she lamented, though the shoes were the least of her worries right now. - Why would anyone do this? - she asked, frustrated.

\- Well… that was an expensive camera… Maybe you shouldn't leave it alone like that. - the doctor commented.

She finally looked at him, though her glance was annoyed and she was frowning. However, when their eyes met again, her expression softened.

\- I guess you're right... It just bothers me that it is us who get scolded and not him for stealing it! - she explained, shaking her head.

\- Are you going to call the police? - the doctor asked.

\- Hmm I'd rather not, honestly. I'm not a big fan of cops. - she confessed with a nervous smile.

The man frowned. He couldn't help thinking that whoever disliked cops was probably not very reliable themselves, though to be fair, it was them who had just been robbed and not the other way around.

\- Damn it, are you a cop? - she asked, misinterpreting his expression.

\- Oh, no, no. - he reassured her. - I'm a doctor.

\- Oh, that's a relief. Doctors, I like. - she responded, with a crooked smile and a wink.

\- Then maybe you'll take a doctor's advice … - he said tentatively. - You shouldn't walk barefoot on these streets… You could cut yourself again.

\- Again? - she repeated, without understanding.

\- Isn't that a scar from a cut? - he inquired, pointing towards a fine line of lighter tissue under her ankle.

\- Actually, it's not! - she clarified. - It's a funny story, everyone thinks it's a scar… If you look close you can even discern the stitches marks… But it's a birthmark. I've had if since I was born.

\- Wow… - he murmured, hesitant- May I…?

\- Suit yourself. - she shrugged, inviting him to kneel beside her.

\- That's quite remarkable. - he said, getting back on his feet after a careful examination. - It truly looks like a scar.

\- I know. - she smiled, proud of her unique trait.

\- But anyway, that doesn't change that you could get an actual cut. - he insisted. - I happen to be carrying an extra pair of sneakers.- he remembered them, showing her his bag.

\- What were the odds? - she asked, surprised and also a bit suspicious.

\- They are my son's- he proceeded to explain quickly - He wanted me to get him a new pair of the same ones, so he made me bring them with me. I don't think he would mind you using them… he was probably going to throw them away anyway.

\- What did he do with them? - she asked with a laugh when she saw the terrible state they were in.

\- Parkour. - the doctor repeated, slightly embarrassed.

\- What now? - she asked, intrigued.

\- It's like… he jumps and climbs buildings and stuff. - the doctor explained poorly.

\- I see… Isn't that dangerous? - she asked, as she put on the sneakers and tied their laces.

\- He's actually really good at it. - he answered honestly.

\- Well… thank him on my behalf, please! - she said getting up with a big smile. - I should try calling my brother… I don't know why he isn't coming back. - she wondered, getting worried.

She took her phone out of her pocket, but she cursed when she saw the black screen.

\- Damn it, it's dead! Today's really not my day. - she sighed, defeated.

\- Here, use mine. - the doctor offered, taking off the earphone cable.

\- Are you sure you don't mind? - she asked, embarrassed.

\- Not at all. - he encouraged her, handing her the phone.

\- Thank you. - she smiled, and dialed her brother's number. She waited a few seconds, and then he picked up. - Hey! Where are you? … Did you get him?…. I see… No, I'm still here…. Okay, I'll be right there.

She hung up the phone and handed it back to the doctor.

\- He couldn't get the thief. -she informed him. - He's talking to the cops now. He told me to wait for him at the square, in front of the book store.

\- That's where I'm headed. - the doctor said, putting the phone in his pocket.

\- Was that your son? - she asked, pointing to the screen before he put it away.

\- Oh… yes, that's him.

\- I guess the red hair comes from his mother then. - she joked, pointing at the doctors black hair.

\- I wouldn't know. - the doctor confessed. - He was abandoned at the hospital I used to work with, right after he was born.

\- Oh God, that's awful! - she said, covering her mouth with her hands and scolding herself for bringing it up. - I'm sorry, I didn't know…

\- It's alright. It's just been the two of us ever since. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. - he assured her with a calm smile, that she reciprocated.

So they walked together, and this time they did notice the sound of the sirens, though the tall buildings prevented them from seeing the dense column of smoke coming out of the cathedral. However, they did see that many people seemed to be heading the same direction as them, and they all looked altered.

\- All this fuzz about a street burglar? - she joked, though as the seconds went by they both realized something bigger was going on.

Just when they were about to stop someone to question them, they turned the corner and the image of the cathedral came in sight.

\- Jesus Christ. - the doctor said, while she gasped loudly beside him.

\- What happened? - she asked, horrified.

They arrived just in time to see the main, high spiracle collapse, in a scene that would be forever engraved in their memory from that day on.

Everyone was gathering by the riverside, taking pictures and videos, some of them crying, and others staring in absolute, shocked silence.

\- Hey! - a voice called, and the dancer's brother came out of nowhere.

\- Did you see that? - his sister asked, pointing towards the cathedral.

\- Holy shit! - the musician yelled, taking his hands to his head.

Soon, he also took out his phone and began taking pictures of the flaming building, whose whole net of wood beams was starting to crumble down as well.

The doctor couldn't believe his eyes. He knew the building was just that, a building, made of stone… but somehow he felt as if he was witnessing a loved being suffering. He felt a heavy weight in his chest. The dancer noticed his expression, and she felt the need to comfort him somehow.

\- I'm sure they will stop it soon. She will be okay.

The doctor looked at her, surprised by her use of the personal pronoun, as if she had read his mind.

\- How are you so sure? - he asked, skeptical.

\- Because… even fire cannot destroy the purest things in this world. - she stated firmly.

\- Where is that from? - he asked, recognizing the words.

\- What?

\- Your quote.

\- Oh, is it a quote? I didn't know! It just came to my mind now. - she shrugged.

He struggled to remember where he had heard it before, but he was unable to recall. Though the words had, for some reason, sent a shiver down his spine.

\- Well… I should get going. - he said finally, letting it go. - I hope you get back your stuff.

\- Yes! Thank you… ehm…

\- Claude.

\- Thank you, Claude. I'm Esme. - she said, offering her hand.

\- Good luck, Esme. - he shook her hand, and when he touched her skin, he felt it again.

That iron fist in his chest, that electric current across his body. That feeling of recognizing her, of intense familiarity.

\- Are you dancing here often? - he asked, out of the blue.

\- No, actually… we just arrived at the city a couple days ago. We couldn't have come in a worse time. - she said, pointing towards the fire. - I hope we didn't bring bad luck with us! - she chuckled nervously.

\- I see...well… goodbye then. - he said absently, wondering how on earth was he so sure that he had met her before.

When he arrived at his home in the suburbs almost an hour later, his son was already waiting for him at the entrance.

\- Hey! Did you hear it? - he asked, as soon as his father stepped out of the car.

\- I _saw_ it. - Claude revealed. - I was walking back to the consult from your store… Here you are by the way. They still had the model you wanted.

\- Oh, thank you! - his son exclaimed excited, as they both climbed up the steps and walked inside. - I was cooking dinner, watching the news but… - he threw his new sneakers a longing look.

\- Go practice. - Claude told him. - I will finish making dinner.

\- Awesome! - the happy lad said, and he disappeared into the backyard.

Claude entered the kitchen, where some pasta was boiling in the pot. The TV was on, displaying the terrifying images of the cathedral burning in the night. Apparently, the firefighters still hadn't been able to control the flames, and they were getting dangerously close to the towers. He didn't know why it was affecting him so much. Granted, it was a beautiful building, and a great artistic loss… But he felt as if also part of him was burning with it.

A short vibration on his pocket distracted him from his thoughts, as he decided to turn off the TV.

He had a new text from an unknown number.

"Hey, it's Esme!"

His heart skipped a beat. It took him a moment to realize that she must have saved his number from her brother's phone, from the call she had made earlier. Another text followed.

"I just wanted to thank you again for letting me borrow your son's shoes! It was definitely fate that you happened to be there carrying them! I don't suppose he'll want them back… but if he does, just tell me when and where and I'll drop them by! ;)"

He read the text again, aware of the inexplicable rush of adrenaline he was feeling at the possibility of seeing her again. Was he misinterpreting it? She was probably just trying to be polite. But again, she had already thanked him in person… and he had explained that his son would probably throw the sneakers to the garbage. What if it was an excuse to see him again?

No, no. Why would she want that?

His fingers moved faster than his brain.

"I will be having coffee tomorrow morning at Café Flamcourt, if it's on your way." he typed, though he didn't hit the Send button.

It was too direct. Too obvious. It sounded like an invitation. He deleted it and typed again.

"You're welcome. I usually take a mid-morning break with my colleagues at Café Flamcourt, if it's on your way."

Yes, that was better. Mentioning his colleagues meant he wasn't looking for a private encounter, though leaving the possibility open.

He placed the phone on the counter as he rinsed the pasta, and heated the sauce. He felt stupid for his childlish nervousness, as if he was a hormonal teen waiting for a text from his crush. He was an adult man, for God's sake! However, his heart betrayed him when the phone vibrated again, and his hands flew to grab it instantly.

"Perfect! That will give me a chance to buy you a thank you coffee :)"

An involuntary smile brightened up his face, and suddenly, his appetite was gone. Instead, he was eager to get to bed, so it would be tomorrow already.

He couldn't put his finger on why, but he was feeling a deep joy… As if, instead of a few minutes, he had been waiting for that text for a very, very, long time.

* * *

**A/N: Soooo... this is it! **

**Thank you so much if you read up to this point! This story ended up being so much longer than I had anticipated hahaha I just got carried away, I didn't know myself how it would end, but I hope you enjoyed it! **

**Thank you so much for all your reviews, they were really encouraging to keep going, and even though I'm finished now, they will still be greatly appreciated, whenever you read this story, so keep them coming! ;) **

**To say goodbye I wanted to share a realization I made just today. I wanted to check how much time it had taken me to write the story ( shotout to whoever commented "speedy update!" in the reviews lol) so I looked at today's date and I realized that the Notre Dame's fire was EXACTLY a year ago, the 15th of April! :O Not only that, but then I saw that I had written and posted the first chapter the 6th of January, and I had a memory/intuition... and sure enough, according to the movie song, the Tupsy Turvy day was the 6th of january! What were the odds!? hahaha  
Maybe it's silly but I thought it was an amazing coincidence! :P**

**Anyway, thank you all and I'll see you around! Be safe! 3 **


	59. To Be Continued?

To Be Continued...?

It's been a month since I finished this story and I've been pondering about continuing it, but I'm not sure as to where to keep going, so I thought maybe you could all brainstorm with me haha Feel free to leave a comment/review or PM me with your ideas!

**What would you most like to read? **

A- A continuation of Frollo and Esmeralda's story with the gypsies and their new life as outcasts...

B- A continuation of the modern-day epilogue where they find each other again centuries later..

C- Both ;)

D- None, the story is closed and finished.

E- Other? Maybe another Fresme fanfic from a different approach?

Thank you so much for your suggestions! ;) 3


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